She's Leaving Home
by Hawker97
Summary: Courtney suddenly finds herself to have time traveled to London in 1963 when she is from 49 years in the future, 2012. She encounters The Beatles and they're kind enough to take her in and she quickly makes friendships with them, and one special bond. Will she want to go back to her home in the next century once she makes an unforgettable relationship with one Beatle?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey there, so here i am once again with a new fic for you all! So i initially wrote this first part on my phone and lost it when my phone stopped working, so i rewrote it and i hope that you all will like it! i wont be updating it all too regularly because of my other stories but i just wanted to get this idea going. Anyways sorry for my rambling and leave reviews if you want. Enjoy!**

"Hey love, why're you crying?" I hear a friendly voice ask me and i lift my head to see an unfamiliar street where things look much different from my hometown, things look older and i don't recognize anything but his face.

"Is everything alright?" he continues with the questions and i'm in awe and disbelief at who's standing in front of me, what's going on?

"Where am I?" I find my words with the question i ask and i tuck a piece of my dark red hair behind my ear.

"You're in London." he replies and my confusion grows, i don't live in London let alone this country.

"What day is it?" I ask him.

"It's a Monday, the 20th of September, of 1963 love." he responds and my eyebrows fall.

But it can't be 1963, because i live in 2012 in my hometown not London, England. I look down at my jeans with torn knees, my gray v-neck sweater, my thread bracelets that are intact on my pale wrists and my army green book bag that sits at my feet.

"What's your name, love?" he asks as he moves from his squatting position in front of me to sit beside me on the sidewalk.

"Courtney." I reply and i turn to look at his youthful face, how can this be?

"It's a pleasure to meet you Courtney, i'm Paul." he introduces and he stretches his hand out which i shake, he definitely is real and young.

"So why did i find a nice lass like you crying?" he queries and i shake my head as i'm terribly lost and confused.

"I uh stopped to sit down here after i had a bad day at school, i didn't want to go home yet." I slowly say as the last thing i remember before being here is sitting on the sidewalk and resting my head on my bent knees to cry, and i see him nod.

"Why were you crying, if i may ask?" he inquires and i cock my head to look at him.

"Oh i'm sorry, that is a rather personal question and since we just met you don't have to answer that to a complete stranger."

"No it's fine, it's just a long story and it's kind of pathetic." I utter sadly.

"I have the time to hear it, but since it's a tad chilly out today would you like to talk over tea?" he offers and i nod before he stands up.

He lets out his hand for me to get up and i take it with a thankful smile and i follow him as he starts to walk. My eyes travel over all of the sights around this town, this large, beautiful and bustling town that i've never once set my foot in but have always had the desire to.

"So Courtney i assume you're not from around here then, are you from the states love?" Paul asks as i have my somewhat heavy book bag now on my shoulders while i can't help but to admire the town with it's buildings and unique people.

"Yeah, the states." I reply as my mind is elsewhere. _How am i here right now_, i ask myself.

I continue to follow by his side as he's in dark jeans and a gray knit sweater with seemingly a button up underneath as i see the white collar. We soon come upon a white building that has several doors spaced out and he leads us up a staircase to one door which i assume to be to his house or apartment.

"What kind of tea would you like?" he asks as we take off our shoes in the entry way and i marvel at the homey space.

"Any is fine." I answer him as my eyes identify with his apartment.

I see that the kitchen is on your right as you walk in, the living room is straight ahead with a long hallway at my very left, a dining room leading off from the kitchen and lastly a staircase to my left. The living room holds a couch, a recliner, another chair and a piano against the right wall. It's such a warm area with the few paintings, rug over the dark wood floor, the record player along with its vinyls by the couch and just the atmosphere accommodating it all.

Like the lost puppy i am i follow on his tail into the kitchen that's small but the right size and i watch as he fills the kettle and gets out two cups from the cupboard.

"So Courtney tell me about yourself, i'd just like to get to know you." Paul states and i fiddle with a ring on one of my fingers as i lean against the kitchen counter.

"My name is Courtney Oakes, i'm 19 years old and my favorite color is green."

"Ah well since you told me about yourself then i'll inform you about me. My name is James McCartney, but you can call me Paul like everybody else does, i'm 21, and my favorite color is sky blue." he tells and my response is nodding as i stare down at my feet that are in black socks.

"Ya got any siblings?" he queries and he gets a shake of the head from me.

"I have a younger brother Michael." he informs while he pours the steaming tea into our two cups.

He hands one cup to me and he leads us out to the couch in the den and i sit beside him before i set my tea on the coffee table in front of us. I get an idea and so i reach into my front pocket for my 21st century cell phone but all i find in my pants pockets is a tube of chap stick, hmph.

"What do you like to do as hobbies?" Paul questions me as we sit beside each other with a safe distance between each other. I feel as if we're old buddies, by how comfortable he makes me feel and how easily we can talk to each other, even though i'm nervous to talk my one true hero.

"I like to read good books, listen to music, draw pictures and spend time with friends." i answer after i decide i can't say anything about an IPod, the internet or CD's.

"Ah same here, i love all those things. Since you're nineteen i assume you're in college then, what're you going for if i can ask?"

"Yeah i'm going to be an art teacher but i'm not so confident in my career choice anymore." I tell as i'm not sure if i'm cut out for it.

"Ah i'm a musician in this band with my mates, we got a recording contract and released our first album last March."

"I know." i reply and i almost regret saying that.

"It's always nice to meet a fan." he tells me with a smug grin.

With The Beatles being my favorite band i surely know about their first album and much more about them, i'm still confused as to how this happened. I wonder if i'm daydreaming in class again or if i'm for once having a pleasant dream during my after school nap.

Our heads turn in the direction of the front door behind us as it opens and John Lennon, George Harrison and Ringo Starr walk in. I resist to have my jaw drop so i instead do a bit of staring as i gaze at the rest of the members of my favorite band. I'm simply astonished to be seeing John and George walk in and from that a smile appears on my face.

"Hey Paul, who's this lovely bird?" John asks as he sits down in the chair diagonal of us two and i blush at his comment.

"This here is Courtney and love these are me mates; George, John and Ritchie." Paul introduces and they all give a wave or a smile at the mention of their names.

"It's nice to meet you, Courtney." George says and i smile at the comment and give him a nod.

John walks off as do the others to upstairs or their designated rooms i assume or the kitchen as Paul and i return to our now cooled off tea. I take a sip of the warm liquid and stare into the cup of brown liquid as my thoughts race.

"Hey Courtney, do you have a place to stay?" Paul blurts into the previous silence and i shake my head at the realization that i don't.

"You're welcome to stay here then, we can make you a bed or you could have one of ours." he offers and i shake my head at his generosity.

"I wouldn't want to be a trouble." I mutter and i get a shake of the head from him.

"It wouldn't be a trouble at all love and i wouldn't want you to not have somewhere to stay." he kindly says and i relent by nodding my head.

"Am i hearing that Courtney is going to be joining us for a sleepover tonight?" John pipes in as he again joins us.

"Yeah John, she doesn't have a place to stay so i told her she's welcome here." Paul informs him.

"Ah well we'll be nice gentlemen and give you a bed to sleep in and meals to eat, love. You'll just have to do the dishes, clean the toilet and wash our laundry." John adds in with his quick wit.

"Don't listen to him love, you don't need to worry about doing a thing." Paul objects and he gives me a smile and a wink as his hazel eyes bore into mine. Him smiling at me and winking at me instantly gave me butterflies in my stomach and made me feel all fuzzy inside, he's so kind.

I still have no idea what is going on or any understanding of my current situation but i like how its going. I mean what Beatles fan wouldn't want to travel back in time to meet their favorite band? I think that's what has happened anyways, but how? What about going back to my home that's 50 years in the future?


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hi there, I'm so sorry that its been so long since I wrote another part! Ideas weren't really coming to me for a second part and I meant to write it this past weekend but I had some stuff going on, but here I finally got to it! Thanks for the reviews you left on the previous chapter, I hope this one wont disappoint :) Enjoy! **

I look back to my cup of tea and remember my situation back home, I don't miss my home and my parents I can tell you that. I sigh and take a gulp from my no longer scorching tea and bring my attention back to Paul and John who are chatting away.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but where's the bathroom?" I ask the two englishmen.

"It's down the hall and the last door on your right." Paul tells me and I nod before standing up from the couch and finding my way to the bathroom.

I quickly use the toilet in the small bathroom before washing my hands and drying them. I exit the bathroom to hear John and Paul's current conversation.

"What're we gonna do with her while we play the show this afternoon?" John asks Paul.

"She can just come with us and we'll buy her a ticket." Paul replies and John lets out a sigh.

"We can't be supporting this lass and paying for everything for her. Hell we don't even know her, all I know is that you found this lass on your walk home! She could be some druggie or psycho for all we know!" John responds and I stop in the middle of the hallway, out of sight kind of.

"John she's a nice girl and she needs somewhere to stay. She's scared and confused, she needs somebody and I'd just like to support her until she gets back on her feet." Paul responds and I walk in and they both turn to face me, i watch as the realization hits Paul's face.

"Love-." he starts.

"I don't have to stay here, I can find another place to stay." I state even though really the last thing I want to do is to leave this inviting flat of theirs with my favorite band and Paul who makes me feel safe, but if I'm not welcome then what's the point?

I don't even have another place to stay, no money from this time, knowing of this town or anybody here.

"No love, you're welcome to stay here." Paul tells me and John stays silent.

"I don't want to stay here and be some nuisance to all of you. I'd rather just leave now than be a bother to you." I state boldly and I cross my arms over my chest and let out a sigh, I just want to be wanted by somebody.

"Court, we want you to stay here, really we do. I don't mind chipping in some money for clothes for you and some other things, we just need to be able to trust you love."

"You can trust me." I inform him and he nods before John goes into the kitchen for something or other.

I sigh and push my hair away from my eyes, I'm so confused with what's going on and stress is getting to me.

"Hey, it's alright." Paul says as he stands up and walks over to me before giving me a hug, one I really need.

"It's okay Court, you have a bed to sleep in here and meals to eat. We'll find you some clothes and you'll just have to come with us to a show of ours this afternoon in an hour. Don't worry about a thing love, don't cry darling." his soft, comforting voice speaks and I nod into his shirt as his arms are around me and his chin rests on the crown of my head.

"I'm sorry, I feel like a bother." I admit.

"Don't apologize, Court. You're not a bother at all and I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to. I can already tell that you're a nice girl and that we'll get along well." he continues to console me and I just nod, I don't know what to say to his generosity.

"Thank you Paul, it really means a lot." I mumble into his chest and I feel his hand lightly rub my back before we pull away.

"Of course, love." he adds with warm smile and I return with a small smile.

"Are you hungry?" he asks and I nod my head before I follow him into the now empty kitchen and we end up making ham and cheese sandwiches with our beverages of milk.

"Hey lads, Courtney and I are going to visit one of those boutiques in town, we'll be back shortly. Alright?" Paul calls up the stairs after we finish our lunch and we put our shoes back on.

I hear a variation of '_bye_' or '_whatever_' before I follow Paul out the door and along the sidewalk.

Not much is said during the short walk into what I assume to a part of the town with stores and I follow Paul to a clothes one. He had worn shades on this cloudy day and we walk in and find the racks for my age and all.

"Um do you think you'll be okay if I just go look in the men's? You should be fine I think with just a few outfits love and maybe a pair of shoes." Paul tells me and I nod my head and he gives me a smile before we part our own ways.

I'm still really confused as to how I'm here, but I'm not thinking that this is a dream anymore because everything is far too real. I look at all the dresses, skirts, shirts and other garments on the racks in this area for girls my age. I skim through the different outfits and check the size on the tags before I find a few that I like and I walk over to the dressing rooms to try them on.

I finally settle on a black dress with long sleeves that reaches past my knees, a long sleeved maroon shirt, two pairs of nice looking jeans, another shirt and a black skirt. I find a bra and a pack of underwear quick as well. I carry them as I travel over to where the shoes are and I remove my beat up tennis shoes to try on a pair of black flats. After finding my size and grabbing a pack of like socks to wear with them I find Paul over in the men's and he turns around to face me with a smile.

"Hey love, how'd the clothes search go?" Paul questions and I gesture to the small pile of clothes I hold.

"Ah well good, I'm glad you found some ya like and that fit. Lets go pay for them then." he states and I follow his tall figure as we walk over to the cashier and he pays.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." I tell him as we exit the store with my bag of clothes in hand.

"You're welcome, love." he comments and I follow him back to his apartment and I go into their downstairs bathroom to change into an outfit.

The clothes Paul was nice enough to buy for me certainly are different from the normal clothes I would wear back home in 2012. I'd basically be wearing jeans and a t shirt or occasionally a nice blouse back home, my casual style. I've worn a dress or a skirt before of course, but not such things that are so fancy and girly like these outfits, hmm. The fashion is much different from where I'm from 49 years in the future, everything looks different, people look different and act different. The world is distinct in this time, I've always had the desire to live back in the 60's. I never thought it'd actually happen, this will be a big adjustment for me I know.

I sigh and look at myself in the mirror after I had changed into the fancy red shirt with a few buttons going from the collar down. I look myself up and down to examine the long, black skirt that doesn't look all too bad on me.

I open the previously closed bathroom door to ask Paul something.

"Hey Paul, is it okay if I was to take a shower quick?" I call to him.

"Yeah love, you can go right ahead! There should be a towel in there and shampoo and soap already in the shower." he answers.

"Alright, thanks!"

"You're welcome, Court!" he responds with this sudden nickname for me, one that I've never been given, I like it.

I shut the door and strip off my new clothes to place in the shopping bag and I set those aside and my dirty clothes I wore earlier before turning the shower on. I find a towel and washcloth to place on the closed toilet and luckily I find regular shampoo and body wash, not those kind that are specifically for men with the cologne in the body wash.

I take a quick shower and get all dried off before I found a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain, black t shirt that were placed on the blue rug in front of the door. I shrug my shoulders at the odd discovery and change into them before I exit the bathroom with wet hair and the dirty towel and washcloth in hand.

"Um Paul, where should I put these?" I ask him when I find him sitting on the couch with his guitar on his lap.

"Just on the top of the washer down in the laundry room by the loo. You know you look nice in those clothes of mine, I was a bit worried they'd be too big on you." he tells me.

"Thanks." I comment and I blush on the way to the laundry room, hmm so I'm wearing his clothes huh?

"I just thought I'd lend you those for until we leave for the show and for pajamas as well." he informs me when I walk back into the living room.

"Oh thanks, they're really comfy." I state and he flashes me a smile and I smile back at him.

We talk a tad more for the next 10 minutes until I went to change into the black skirt, red blouse and flats in order for me to accompany them to the show. I find my brush and comb my wet hair. I have no idea for what the hairstyles for women of this time wear really, so I just braided a piece of my bang along the right side of my head. Where the braid attaches to the rest of my hair kind of, not loose. _That'll have to do_, I think before I put on some lotion and exit the bathroom to leave the guys' apartment for some car outside waiting for them, for us. I pile in next to then and I find myself in the back, sat beside Paul. He smiles and I smile back, ah I love his bright smile.

We soon arrive at the cinema where they're playing and we all get dropped off in back and we go through the door there to find the stage and the large auditorium where row after row of seats is, what a large place.

"Court, do you just wanna wander around for a bit until we're dressed?" Paul questions and I turn back to face him and I answer with '_sure_' and he nods his dark haired head before retreating to a hall behind the stage.

I sigh and find a seat up on the very top, near the double doors that lead out into the front whereabouts of the building; concession and all. I sit down and prop up my legs up on the seat in front or me and gaze at the empty stage. _I'm going to see the beatles in concert_, I realize and I smile to myself at the thought. Being a fan of them, and more if you're one after they disbanded, you can only dream about seeing them in concert. I look to my lap and fiddle with my pale fingers and I rest my head back on the cushioned seat and shut my eyes.

It feels so great and it's such a relief to be escaping my troubled life that I don't enjoy back home, yet I still don't know what to make of all of this. There's no way it's a dream, even though i sometimes do daydream in class, my mind could not make everything seem so livid. However this is happening or whatever the reason may be: I'm thankful for it.

I didn't want to walk home from school to face my empty home that both of my 2 parents no longer inhabit. The papers for their divorce were finalized yesterday and my dad moved out last night. I've been left to stay with my mother whom I don't get along with. I'm so mad at her for ruining my parents' marriage. It was solely her fault, considering she cheated. _Can they even tell I'm gone_, I wonder to myself. You can't forget dreaded school that I hate to attend, I don't even want to think about my horrible grades. That's another reason why I didn't want to face my parents and endure being yelled at.

I get brought of my thoughts by hearing footsteps so I open my eyes to notice Paul walking out onto the wood stage. I look over his sharp suit that I think he looks great in, as he walks over to an amp to plug in his Hofner violin bass, oh his famous bass. I set my elbow on the arm rest and place my chin in my palm.

"Courtney, where are you love?" Paul calls out as his left hand is against his forehead to attempt to shield from the bright, stage lights.

"I'm up here." I yell back and I wave my arms in the air until he spots me and nods his head.

"Aha there ya are, what're you doing up there darling?" he bellows out and I think to say: 'j_ust chillin_' but that's an American slang he wouldn't understand.

"I'm just watching from up here, these seats are kind of comfy!" I answer back and he nods with his grin.

"Ah, well will you tell me what you think after you hear our rehearsal of a few songs?" Paul asks me.

"Yeah sure!" I reply and he nods before turning to face John and the others who enter on stage.

I'm going to see the beatles in concert, I never thought this would really happen, it always seemed impossible. Now it's possible and it is happening, I can't even fathom the thought of what I'm about to witness.

**AN: What'd ya think?**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey there! Ah I'm sorry that its been so long since my last part, but here I am with another that I'm hoping you'll enjoy! Leave a review if you'd like, I'd love to read what you have to say.**

I sit up more in the seat that I now don't find all too comfortable even with its padding and wooden armrests, I feels kind of cramped. I brush those thoughts away and bring my eyes and attention back to the four, familiar men who stand on the stage in front of me. Paul and John appear to be discussing something while Ringo patiently sits at his drum set and George stands distanced away from them with his large, Gretsch guitar that always seemed to big for him. The head songwriters wrap up their talking and plug in their instruments before doing a quick tuning of them and testing it with the strumming of a few chords.

Paul does a counting to four before they bust into the song 'I saw her standing there' and an instant smile appears on my face at hearing Paul's melodic voice sing those lyrics. Hearing a band live is most always better than their recordings, and I'm not doubting that belief the tiniest bit. They sound wonderful and this time I'm not in my bedroom with my iPod playing this song, I've somehow gotten lucky enough to be seeing it live before my eyes. It's still hard to believe, and even though I don't get how this is occurring I'm enjoying it very much.

I prop my elbows to rest on my knees so my chin can rest on my palms as I have a look of complete awe on my face, I'm loving every second of this. I'm enjoying watching George's fingers expertly moving across his fancy guitar and how he joins in with the vocals as harmonies, he looks so young. The cliche '_music to my ears_' is appropriate for this situation definitely, because I am certainly not complaining about what I'm hearing.

They end the song and I don't know whether to clap or not, but they start another song before I could make a decision and now my ears hear 'From me to you', which sounds clear as day and lovely as ever.

They shortly finish that song and play a few more familiar songs of theirs before setting their equipment down and so I find my feet and walk down to the stage.

"What'd ya think, Court? I'm hoping that we sounded alright and that our instruments did too." Paul states as he sees me approaching and I smile at him, which he returns.

"Yeah, you sounded fantastic, you really did." my words seem to fail what happy feelings I'm experiencing right now.

"Ta, it's good to hear a fan thinks we sound alright or even better than alright." Paul replies and I just continue to smile like a fool as I'm in daze standing before my crush, I'm unfortunately getting these waves of being nervous in front of my favorite Beatle.

"How about we go get a bag of popcorn and a soda quick, does that sound alright to you?" he suggests.

"Sure." I simply say and he nods his black haired head and goes down the stairs off the stage and he joins me on the large floor and I follow him out of the auditorium to the concessions that I was thinking about earlier when we arrived.

"Do you like a lot of butter, a little butter or no butter on your popcorn?" Paul questions as we now stand at the empty desk, and we gaze at the chalkboard menu to his left since I stand to his right.

"I like a lot, how about you?" I reply with a question for him and I wonder where the employees who should be working the concessions are.

"Ah, we have mutual likes because so do I. Hmm now do you like salt on it too, love?" Paul continues and I watch as he looks around and since he sees that nobody's out here but us he walks behind the desk and finds a red bag for popcorn, size large.

"Paul, what're you doing?" I ask in surprise and he turns to me with a sly grin.

"Well how else are we going to get our popcorn, eh?" he replies and I laugh with a smile and he goes over to the popcorn maker and scoops enough into the bag to fill it.

"Hmm so extra butter and salt, yes or no?" he talks to himself seemingly but then turns to me and I nod my head in answer.

"Alright then, extra butter and salt. What kind of soda would you like, there's Pepsi, Coke and 7 up?" he speaks and I think of the long list of flavors they have in 2012, not only the 3 Paul listed, and from where I'm from we call it '_pop_'.

"Hmm what kind are you getting?"

"I am going to have a Coke, what about you?" he replies and I think a second before answering with a Pepsi which he finds a glass bottle of in the fridge that sits against the wall.

I thank him after he hands me the bottle after being nice enough to get the metal cap off and he walks over to the counter to my right where nothing sits and he takes a seat there, I follow him and sit beside him.

"It's has the just right amount of delicious butter and salt. If I wasn't in the beatles, I should work at a cinema making the popcorn." he tells me and I smirk at his words and I take some from the bag he holds, he was telling the truth.

"You're right, you make really good popcorn." I agree and he smiles at me and raises his perfect eyebrows a tad at me, he's so charming.

I take a gulp from my cold Pepsi and munch on some of the divine popcorn and I bounce my feet against the desk on accident. I notice Paul doing it too and I look to him and we both grin as our legs move and hit the wood with a loud thunk, which we seem to be amused by.

"Don't people like work here?" I turn to him to ask and I grab some popcorn from the bag which sits in between us.

"That's what I was thinking, but I dunno, I reckon somebody does because you know somebody has to." he adds on and I smile and set my Pepsi bottle on the desk to my left, it's almost crazy that I'm having such a relaxed conversation with him.

"Hmm." I say and I look around the area here that is empty and will be for another probably 10 minutes until people start arriving for the show, I'm liking this kind of one on one with Paul before he has to return to the limelight where he belongs.

"Where in the states are you from?" he out of nowhere brings up and I look to him to see him looking at me and he flashes me a small smile.

"Uh, up north." I reply and he just nods his head in understanding.

"No siblings, huh?" he brings this question back and I shake my head with no smile as I remember my kind of greedy parents who never made me feel that important.

"Why do you look sad love, is something the matter?" Paul questions and I shake my head quick while I stare at my simple shoes.

"I don't wanna talk about it." I mutter and he sighs in response.

"You can tell me, if you want." he encourages and he takes a pause before the second part of his sentence.

He's nice, caring and I'm comfortable around him but I don't want to bore him with my pathetic life story, i'd rather forget about all of that for now.

"Alright you don't wanna talk about it then, but if you end up wanting to I'm all ears." he tells me and he softly pats my shoulder as a kind gesture.

"Thanks." I state and I look at him and face his soft features.

"Welcome." he replies and I end up getting lost in his butterscotch eyes and he seemed to get lost in my green pair and we share a tender moment.

We get interrupted by Ringo walking up to us and then he appeared to regret his decision.

"I erm hope I'm not stepping in on anything." he apologizes and we tear our eyes from each other and look to innocent Ringo.

"Ah no Ritchie, we were talking that's all." Paul tells him and I look away and bite my lip while mindlessly looking around the empty building, soon it'll be packed I'm sure.

"Good, oh you got some popcorn!" Ringo exclaims and I take a sip from my Pepsi before looking back to them and I see Paul take a peek at me while Ringo munches on the filling popcorn.

"I just overheard John and George in there blabbering about what we should do later tonight after the show, they think we should have a game night. I think it's a gear idea, what do you two think?" Ringo informs and I grab some popcorn from the bag that Ringo had placed back between Paul and I's hips and he now sits to Paul's right with a good handful of popcorn.

"Ah yeah, I think that'd be a fun way to end the night. We can drag some board games out and pig out on food during. How's that sounding to you, Court?" Paul responds and he turns to me.

"Uh sure, that'd be fun." I reply a bit shyly but truthfully and I look away and let my sight wander.

"Game night it is then, what games do you reckon we should play?" he speaks to Ringo and I hear somebody light a cigarette, which I admit I hate the smell of because my mom has always smoked.

"John and George didn't mention any, but maybe Scrabble, Yahtzee or card games." I hear Ringo reply and I stare down at my feet that don't enjoy to be in these uncomfortable shoes, I hope I won't be getting blisters from them.

"Oo I'm already getting excited, I'm gonna kick everybody's bums!" Paul exclaims and I hear the front doors to the auditorium open and I look there to see their manager Brian.

"Hey lads, did the rehearsal go alright?" he asks them and I look to Paul and Ringo who both nod their heads at the question.

"Oh and Brian, this is our friend Courtney we'd like you to meet. Brian, Courtney. Court, our manager Brian." Paul introduces us and I shyly nod my head with a small smile and he does the same.

"It's good to meet you, now boys we need to go backstage and talk over some things before the show starts and fans arrive." he announces and we leap off of the counter and I was going to follow but Paul stays behind a bit and so do I because of him.

"Court, is everything alright love?" he asks me sweetly.

"Mmhmm, thanks for asking." I kind of lie and he seems to be relieved at my answer before we follow the two into the empty auditorium and down the walkway.

"Uh here love, you can have the rest of the popcorn and erm I'd feel more comfortable knowing you're safe if you sat here." he turns to me to tell me and he points to the second row smack dab in front of the stage.

"Okay, good luck with your show." I bid and he smiles at me and I sit in the chair with my beverage and snack as its now just us out here.

"Thanks darling, I hope you enjoy the show. How about we meet on that staircase in front, okay?" he responds and I nod my head before he dashes off to back stage and I look around.

I snack on the still kind of warm popcorn and work on my half drank Pepsi. I leave my spot to use the bathroom quick and while in there I looked over my appearance which I'm content with and I take a deep breath before entering back into the concession area and I find my seat. I sit there and tap my foot before I soon here the doors behind me open and teenage girls walk in with excited looks on their faces, programs in hand with drinks, and being clad in Beatle dresses. I smile at the sight of the first Beatles fans and I can't believe I'm getting the chance to live it rather than being some 2nd generation fan.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I hope you're enjoying this story and these parts!**

I watch as more and more girls, and few boys and adults, pile into the large auditorium to find their seats and wait for the beatles to appear on the curtained stage. I eventfully finish off the popcorn while watching the rows of seats being filled and I look to the clock to see the minute hand inching more towards the big 12, it's almost 5. A blonde girl and another one with raven hair take seats next to me and we share smiles.

"Hi I'm Carey, what's your name?" the blonde one introduces herself and we briefly shake hands.

"Courtney."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Courtney, this is my friend Willow. Have you seen them in concert before?" Carey who appears to be very nice says.

"Uh no I haven't, have you?"

"We both have before, they're quite a sight I must say. They make it a party that's for sure." Carey adds on in her British accent and they both sit down after removing their jackets.

"You must not be from here, is that right love?" Carey asks me and I nod my head.

I take a peek at Willow who sits next to me and I swear she somehow looks familiar, but I can't think of how I know her or where from, hmm.

Carey asks where I'm from so I tell her and Willow seems to be either surprised or happy at my revelation.

"Oh really? I have family who lives there, I only see them so often though." she speaks for the first time and she seems even more familiar to me, how do i know her?

"What did you say your last name was?" I question her and she looks to me with her brown eyes that I recognize.

"Nichols." she replies and I turn to look at the stage just as the curtain pulls away to reveal the four men who I was conversing with not even an hour ago.

The volume level drastically changes at their appearance as the hundreds of girls shriek and cheer at seeing them, along with screams of course. The sound doesn't phase me much as I'm lost in my thoughts and I take a look at Willow next to me who looks at the four boys with a smile. There's no doubt about it, she's indeed my great aunt Willow from my mothers side, just wow.

I sigh and look back to the lighted stage to see the beatles in their spiffy suits and with instruments in hand or for Ringo sitting in front of it. They start into 'I saw her standing there' and you for the most part can hear their wonderful voices singing the well known song among Beatles fans. I smile at hearing it and seeing Paul bob his head a bit while singing it, he always gets into it when he sings, I love that about him.

I look around me to see some girls standing with a bizarre look on their faces and some look awestruck, where others are calm and collected.

This is Beatlemania at its finest, huh?

Each song that they sang received great feedback from the excited fans who were screaming and some crying even. After they finished the song everybody clapped and the four men had proud, happy grins on their faces along with their sweat streamed faces. I savored every moment of being attendance at that show, well I certainly didn't enjoy the screaming piercing at my ears but I couldn't of done anything about it and I tried my best to block it out.

Paul or John would occasionally speak before a song as they were breathing hard from just having sang and people went crazy at hearing their voices. It was too bad that some of the fans wouldn't shut up even then when they were talking through, I found it disrespect able.

"Thanks for coming, all of you. We hope you enjoyed it, we did." Paul bids at the end of the show and they perform their famous bow before the curtains close and the lights come on for us to see.

"What did you think, Courtney? I thought it was pretty rocking, they're cute boys and ah they're voices." Carey states as we three stand up to stretch as other people do too.

"I thought it was amazing, they sounded so great. I can't find words to explain it." I say with a soft laugh and Carey smiles.

"Are you getting a ride from your parents, love?" she asks as we step out into the walkway and they carry their purses.

"Uh no, I'm going to wait on the stairs for a friend who I'm riding home with." I respond and Carey nods in understanding.

"We can wait with you until they come, if you like." Willow suggests and I think it over but they start walking and I follow them and toss my empty Pepsi once we get by the concessions.

"Who's this friend, love? Is it a boyfriend maybe?" Carey questions and I smile at her talking about Paul like that, what a thought that would be.

"No, just a friend I met today. You don't have to wait with me, they won't be out for awhile I don't think." I tell them as we now stand in front of the steps and I look over Willow who looks so much like my kind of cousin Ali, her daughter.

"Well if you say so then. It was nice meeting you Courtney, have a splendid night love." Carey bids and I flash her a thankful smile.

"Goodnight Courtney, it was fun sitting by you. Maybe we'll see each other again." Willow tells me, she has no idea.

"Goodnight to both of you, and yeah maybe we will." I reply and they give me a smile and a wave before they join the line of mostly girls that's exiting the cinema through the front doors about 30 feet away from me.

I sigh and walk up the steps to sit on the tenth step up and I watch as people make their way out of the building. I rest my head against the wooden railing and fold my hands to rest on my lap as I begin my wait, I wonder how long it's going to take until Paul comes out here to meet me. I must've been tired from the days events and my eyes slowly shut and I nod off surprisingly.

I wake with a start who knows how long later to hear footsteps in the now empty front of the building and voices.

"Do you see her, Ritchie? She should be somewhere 'round here." I hear Paul's slightly worried voice and I see him appear some feet away.

"Shall I go check in the auditorium again?"

"Sure." Paul replies and I grin before his eyes rest on me.

"Aha there you are!" he announces as he comes up the steps and I laugh.

"What's so funny, huh?" he questions and he sits on the same stair across from me.

"You told me to meet you here and then you couldn't find me, I think it's pretty funny." I answer and he smirks.

"Fine, I guess it is funny." he admits.

"You weren't getting worried about me were you?" I question and he puts on a hard look.

"Nah, I knew you had to be somewhere here. You couldn't of been lost on me." he replies and he takes a peek at me and I know he's lying.

"Alright, yeah I was a tad worried I had lost ya. I must've forgotten about us supposed to be meeting here and I dunno how I didn't spot you on these steps earlier." he fesses up and a small smile plays on my lips, it may sound weird but it feels kind of good that somebody would miss me and be worried about me being gone.

"I'm right here and I'm not leaving for anywhere, I don't know this place remember?" I say and he gives me a nod of his head.

"Mmhm. Lets go home then, and have something to eat." he announces and we stand up, dang my butt is all numb from sitting there.

"Hey did you save me any of that popcorn?" Paul asks me as we walk down the stairs and start for the door.

"No, you told me I could have it all." I reply and he looks to me.

"Oink oink." he says and he then laughs.

"I'm kidding love, I know I said that and plus I don't want popcorn now. I think beans on toast is what our supper is going to be tonight." he states and he throws his arm over my shoulder as we still walk and we make it to the same car from earlier that's waiting outside the doors.

I find a spot beside Paul again and the four guys talk amongst themselves while I stay quiet and it's now dark outside. They're no longer dressed in their sharp suits anymore, they changed back into their outfits from earlier. The ride to their apartment was short and we all pile into the house and go our separate ways; George to the kitchen, Ringo and John upstairs, Paul went down the hall and I nervously follow George.

I find him to be digging out a pan from a cupboard and a large can of Heinz bake beans from the cupboard.

"Do you uh want any help with that?" I offer and I stand next to the table now in my bare feet and I wish to change into something more comfortable and laid back.

"Sure, thanks. Would you mind grabbing the bread from the cabinet and getting 5 slices toasted?" he replies and I shyly nod my head and walk towards the cabinet as he now stands at the stove.

I grab the bag of Wonder bread and untwist it to gather 5 pieces of bread like George said and I place two in the toaster for now. The toaster I have at home can hold 4 slices, things surely do change over time. I cock my head to look around the kitchen and in my mind I compare their kitchen to mine at home. Mine has a dishwasher when their's doesn't, and they don't have a microwave oven, just a standard oven. They have a rack for spices and I wonder how great of cooks they are. A white fridge sits against the wall behind me with a handle that you pull forward to open. Different from mine at home, so much is different here in this time.

The two pieces finish so I find plates and place them on there and toast the next two pieces while George patiently stirs the baked beans in the pan.

"Hey Court, helping out George with din are we?" Paul walks in and gives me a smile which I return.

"Yeah, I thought I'd be nice and help." I respond and he nods his head before opening the fridge and closing it with a small carton of milk in hand.

"Do you want one?" he asks me.

"Sure." I respond and he tosses me the white and blue carton which I easily catch and he goes back into the fridge for another.

I open it and take a drink of it before setting it on the counter and replacing the toasted pieces of bread with the very last piece.

"Toast is done, George." Paul casually tells him and he sets his open milk next to mine so he can find the butter dish in the fridge and a butter knife from the drawer.

Paul starts to butter the pieces of toast and I find a knife and help him with it and he flashes me a thankful smile as we do so.

"Beans are done." George declares and he shuts off the burner the pan was on and sets it on a cooled burner that isn't being used.

Paul and I finish buttering the pieces of toast and now 5 pieces of toast that are waiting for beans.

"Ah dinners ready, I see." John says as he enters the occupied kitchen.

"I was wondering when you would come down, you must've smelt it." Paul puts a lightness to his words with a smirk and Ringo next walks in to join us for dinner.


	5. Chapter 5

We each grab a plate and I find my milk carton on the counter and the lads take the seats at the table so I lean against the counter, which I'm fine with. We all quickly eat our delicious and filling dinner before making a pile of our plates and forks in the sink and John ran off to grab the games.

"What's your favorite game, Court?" Paul asks me as we sit at the table and I look up to meet his eyes.

I think a few seconds before answering him and I rule out games that aren't yet invented in this time, so I finally come to a conclusion.

"Uh probably scrabble." I reply and he nods his head.

"I like scrabble too, maybe we should play that one first." he proposes and right then John walks in with a small tower of games in his arms and he sets them on the cleared counter.

"What will it be first, mates?" he questions and George and Ringo take the remaining seats at the two heads of the table.

"Scrabble, John." Paul tells him and he finds a chair to pull up and he sits across from Paul and I since we somehow came to sit on the same side.

George dashes out of the room quick to bring in the small record player and a few 45's in their sleeves. He whistles as he plugs it in, turns the volume on and places a black 45 on to drop the needle on it and music engulfs the kitchen. I smile at how the atmosphere is now perfect with music playing in the background and Paul goes to the fridge behind us to grab 5 cokes from the fridge.

"Who's going first?" Ringo asks.

"We'll all pull a tile to see who's closest to A." Paul replies and John gets the board out from the box, the cloth sack holding the tiles and the wooden racks.

He places the box back on the counter and we all grab a rack to place in front of ourselves and I hear the hiss of pops being opened. Paul grabs mine and opens mine with a metal opener and we share smiles.

"Thanks."

"Welcome." he responds and George passes me the cloth sack to pull a tile.

"B." I reply after taking it out and I hand the sack to Paul who pulls a f.

"Looks like Courtney is up first." Ringo announces and we all grab 7 tiles to place on our racks and I sit up to look at the board and my letters.

"Hmm.." I say and I tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear as I gaze at my letters and think of what word I could make with them.

I come up with one and put the first tile on the star in the middle of the board and lay the rest of my word.

"Who's keeping track of scores?" John asks and I volunteer so I'm handed a pad of paper and pen.

I write all of our names on it the long way and jot down 18 points for me.

"How'd you get 18?" John asks and I set the pen down to draw more tiles.

"Because I had the double letter score and double world score." I tell him and he seems convinced and I look to Paul who looks at his letters with a frustrated look.

I sit back in the chair and take a swig from my coke and go on to watch the game start to unravel.

"Hey, no looking!" I tell Paul who peers over my shoulder and he grins when I look at him as its my second turn.

"I'm just trying to see how you're beating us all." he states and I smile and look back to my letters.

I glance to the scores; I have 18, Paul has 15, John has 11, George has 13 and Ringo 12.

I shrug my shoulders at Paul and he chuckles and takes a drink from his near to full coke bottle. I bite my lip while thinking of what word to make and I come up with one and then record my score.

We all go two more times and the competition is starting to get fierce as somebody had dug out the hefty dictionary when nobody thought Johns latest word was really a word. It turned out not to be one, he wasn't all too pleased with that. Already we've had plenty of laughs at some people's words they've made, people getting mad and the few conversations we've had.

"I don't get how you always make such big words that get loads of points!" Paul exclaims and I shrug with blushing cheeks as I write down the score for Paul's last word and I total his points up.

"I played a lot of Scrabble with my grandma when I was younger, maybe it's from that." I reply and he winks at me while digging into the cloth sack that is slowly starting to grow light with the tiles leaving it.

Now that I think of my grandma and other family, other than my parents, I admit that I miss them. I used to spend a lot of time with my grandparents baking with my grandma, playing board games or being outside.

I leave my thoughts about them and look to Paul who looks at me with furrowed brows and either a sad or confused expression. I flash him a smile and he returns it and his troubled look fades. I sigh and look back to my rack of letters and listen to the record playing in the background. This is all so great, I wonder if and when it'll end.

I slowly raise my eyes to see Paul looking from the filling board to his tiles and he seems to be deep in thought. I move my eyes to the other 3 who are doing about the same with similar looks, and Ringo takes his tiles to make a word on the board. He tells me how many points the word is and I nod my head while writing the number down and I add it to his growing score up.

Today has been quite the whirlwind for me, with somehow coming here and meeting them. I've loved how things have been going and how nice they are to me, especially Paul. But how long will it last? I have a life back home and family, a life I don't like and some family I also don't particularly like, but I can't hide away here forever.

I shake my head trying to clear the thoughts away, I don't need to worry about that yet I don't think.

"I won, yay!" Paul exclaims as he lays his last few tiles down and we all share how much we had left after adding up our tiles.

"What game will it be next?" George questions as he stood up and went over to the record player and is now placing a new single on to play.

"How about Yahtzee?" John suggests and we get all of the scrabble stuff back into its box.

"Uh I'm not going to play lads, Yahtzee isn't my kinda game." Paul says as he stands up from his chair and he grabs his half full coke.

"I won't be playing either sorry, I'm gonna head up to bed for the night." Ringo joins and John looks to me expectantly and I stand up too.

"Yeah we should probably figure out sleeping quarters for you, love." Paul states and I take my coke and follow him to the couch where we sit.

"Are you sleepy yet?" he asks and I shake my head, but I'm getting there.

I look to my lap as I hold the coke bottle and I stay quiet as I think and I'm thankful I don't have to go to college tomorrow where I have some test that I wasn't ready for. I didn't want to study for it as much I needed to and man am I glad that I don't have to worry about it anymore.

"Court, is something wrong?" Paul mutters and I raise my eyes to see his hazels looking at me.

"Uh no, nothing's wrong." I kind of lie because I'm still very confused about this all and I wish I knew even the slightest of what's going on right now with me being here.

I think about telling Paul that I'm from the future, because I basically am, but would he even believe me? We hardly know each other and I'm afraid he would think I'm pulling some joke or trying to be funny by saying that. I open my mouth to tell him but I shut it and decide against telling him that now, maybe I should wait until a later time when we know each other better and trust the other.

"Actually yeah I am kind of tired." I admit as I'd like to get some sleep to take all of this off my mind.

"Ah okay. I'm tired too, so uh I'm just gonna go change and then I'll be right back down. You should change too." he replies and I nod my head before we part for our own ways and I go to the bathroom to slip into the comfy outfit he borrowed me earlier.

I walk back out after stowing those new clothes of mine into the boutique bag and I find Paul to be in pajama pants and a t shirt coming down the stairs.

"Hey love. So um you can take me bed upstairs and I'll just sleep on the couch. I'll just get another blanket for you and a pillow for me." Paul states generously.

"No, I can take the couch and you can keep your bed." I object and he stands on the last step and I stand a foot or two away from him.

"Nah, I don't want you having to sleep on that uncomfortable couch. I'd rather you sleep in my bed, love." he replies and I follow him to the closet by the door and he grabs a green comforter and white pillow.

He closes the door and I follow him upstairs to see a short hallway with only a few doors and I find John to have one bedroom and Paul the other. Paul leads me into his bedroom and he lays the comforter on his twin bed and I think of an idea.

"What if one of us was to sleep on the floor?"

"I can." he volunteers and he finds a sleeping bag downstairs that he brings upstairs and lays on the floor to the right of the bed to lay down in.

"Are you sure you'll be comfy enough down on the floor?" I ask him as I get into his bed and I hand him the comforter I don't need that he lays down under the sleeping bag.

"I'll be fine love, don't you worry." he says and I nod my head before he shuts off the lamp and slips into the brown sleeping bag.

"If you need anything just wake me." he advises and I pull the gray blanket on his bed up to my shoulders, am I really about to sleep in Paul McCartney's bed?

"Thanks Paul, I really appreciate it." I fail with using words to thank him and I hear him move around to get comfortable.

"Ah of course, love."

"Goodnight Paul." I say after a minute and I stare into the darkness of his bedroom.

"Goodnight Courtney." he replies and I close my eyes.

I lay there thinking of course as I try to process what's going on, even though I'm not coming up with a thing, and I hope that this isn't some dream I'll wake up from in the morning. I sigh and snuggle into Paul's comfy bed and soon drift off to sleep with him laying on the floor next to me.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hi! I'm really sorry for not having a new part for such a long time, I've had a lot going on, and no time or inspiration to work on this fic. Again I'm sorry. I hope you're still interested in this story and also that you enjoy this part. Let me know what you think of it? :)**

I slept soundly, I don't think I've slept that well in such a long time, and I thought I had dreamt it all when I had woken up. I hadn't yet opened my eyes yet, but I heard cars honking their horns from outside and angry voices from downstairs, the normal sounds from back home.

I turn over with a groan and I open my sleepy eyes to see the blank wall of a room that is not my bedroom, and I remember that I'm in Paul's bedroom, in his bed, in 1963. It's still hard to comprehend, but nonetheless I feel relief at realizing that I didn't dream it. I yawn and close my eyes as the last thing I want to do is to leave this warm, soft bed, but I hear footsteps that get louder and I turn over to see Paul dozing on the floor next to the bed. The footsteps fade out and I flip myself over to face away from the wall, and to look at Paul's kind of big room. He has a few posters of Chuck Berry, Elvis and Carl Perkins on his bedroom walls along with some black and white pictures hanging by a tack on the wall across from me and I recognize the other three guys, his parents and brother to be in them. I take a few more glances to notice a dark brown dresser to be against the wall right below the collage of pictures, and a closet with its doors shut is to it's right.

I hear the rustling of something and I tear my eyes away from the dresser over on that side of the room to find Paul to be moving around on the uncomfortable looking spot on the carpeted floor and his eyes open. I lay back down to stare up at his bland ceiling and I play with the hem of the blanket that lays over me. I hear Paul yawn and groan as I space out.

"Courtney love, are you awake?" Paul whispers in his sleepy voice, one that I admit I find very attractive.

Whoever said that boys are cuter when they had just woken up with that scruffy voice masked by sleep sure was right.

"Yeah." I reply and he sits up and I notice he no longer is wearing a shirt and he steps out from his sleeping bag to rest his arms on his knees.

"Did you sleep well, love?" he questions and as much as I hate to I tear my eyes away from his white, toned chest.

"Mmhmm, did you?" I reply after I sit up and I flick my long hair off my shoulder, I've been thinking about getting it cut the past few weeks.

"Yeah, it was alright down here, but with all these blankets it got a bit sweaty so I took off my shirt." he replies and he seems to be embarrassed or something about being shirtless, but he doesn't need to be.

We both snap our heads towards the direction of the loud voices coming from downstairs where it seems a few somebodies aren't getting along. Paul stands up to walk to his door and I have to tell myself, of course not out loud, to not stare at him. I move to get up, but Paul holds out his hand for me to stop and I stay put on this mattress of his.

"Just stay here, Court, they've probably just gotten into some rubbish argument."

"Who's they?" I ask and I run my hand through my messy, red hair.

"I dunno, John's probably one of them. He doesn't exactly have the best temper." he replies and he opens the door to go downstairs and I almost follow because I realize that I need to use the bathroom, but I don't want to walk in on anything in fear of making it worse.

I continue to hear the yelling while I fiddle with the bracelet on my wrist as I sit cross legged.

"Hey, would you two shut up for a moment?! Now what the hell are you screaming your lungs out at each other for?" I hear Paul yell louder than both of the two unknown voices and I no longer hear yelling.

I quickly braid my mane of red hair as I sit there with nothing to do, and I quickly braid the long pieces and I secure them with a ponytail from my wrist. Footsteps come up the stairs and I expect Paul to walk in, but to my surprise Ringo does in baggy pajamas.

"Hey, you alright up here? I never like it when any of us fight." he questions and he takes a seat in a chair at the end of Paul's bed.

"Yeah I'm fine, I hate it when people fight. My parents used to do a lot of it." I reply and I raise my eyes that were set on the blanket to meet Ringo's droopy, blue eyes, the brightest pair I've ever seen.

"I'm sorry about that, but you say used to, did something happen?" he questions.

"Well I meant it by they just got divorced." I remark and he nods his head in understanding.

"I'm sorry again."

"It's nothing." I comment, even though that's technically a lie.

"What're they fighting about?" I wonder aloud and Ringo exhales a breath and fiddles with a ring on one of his fingers.

"If you really wanna know, John isn't too pleased about you staying here." he reveals and all I can do is to nod my head up and down silently.

"He doesn't like me, huh?"

"No, I don't think it's that. He just isn't so easy to trust with people, and he's concerned about money and all." he tries to reassure me and I think.

"Why isn't he living with Cynthia?" I think before I speak.

"How do you know he's with Cyn?" he questions and I try to come up with some kind of convincing response.

"Paul uh told me." I reply and again I hear yelling come from downstairs, I hate it when people raise their voice.

"Would you do me a favor for me please?" I state after I think about a decision that I make.

"Sure." Ringo replies and I ask him to grab the boutique bag, and my backpack and things from downstairs to bring up to me.

He agrees and returns with them after not even a minute and he gives me privacy to change out of Paul's loose fitting clothes into my old pair of jeans and into my gray sweater. I find paper and a pencil on Paul's dresser to write a note saying I'm leaving and that he can return the clothes, I hate annoying people, and I most definitely don't want to be the reason for people arguing with each other.

"Are you leaving?" Ringo asks after I step into the hall from Paul's room with my backpack on my shoulders and I nod.

"What, why?"

"I'm just bothering you guys and I'm making you fight with each other, I should have never came and I'm sorry." I reply and I start for the staircase up ahead, but I stop when I hear what he has to say.

"You're not bothering us love, you're a joy to be in the same room with, and Paul loves you being here. I know it. George thinks you're funny and a nice girl, as do I, and as for John he's John. But don't leave, it's not exactly a nice place out there being by yourself." he says and I process what he has to say, but I go on to the steps that I go down and I find the empty kitchen and living room, at least I can escape without a struggle.

I close the door after me and I start down the line of sidewalk with my arms crossed over my chest as I'm scared stiff. Cars, double decker buses, people on bikes and business type people walking to work pass me while I have no idea where I'm going. I cross the street and I look back to their flat where the door is closed and I hope they're getting along without me there, I just didn't want to be some burden. I cross another street when the cars stop at the red light and I don't hear the voice calling after me while I avoid the outside world. I thought for once that somebody actually cared about me and that somebody wanted me, but I must of been too distracted having the famous beatles in front of me to notice the truth. I at first didn't notice but this teenaged guy in leather started to follow me on the sidewalk and I made a few turns because of him and he didn't go another way each time, he stayed right on my tail. I finally got away from him when I crossed another intersection ridden with crazy traffic and he was left behind, Ringo was right that it's not so safe out here all alone by yourself. In 2012 you're never exactly safe by yourself with all of the cuckoos and weirdos walking the streets drunk or with some knife on their waist, or maybe that's just where I'm from. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I gasp and snap around to see the soft face that slept next to the bed I laid in earlier this morning, but now his face is clouded over with concern. He coughs and is seemingly out of breath.

"Paul?" I question and I look him up and down to see that he's in jeans and a button up that he tried to tuck into his jeans, but a few bits are peeking out, was somebody in a hurry?

"Why'd ya run off?" he questions in a stern and urgent tone and I turn around to walk off, but he holds onto my shoulder which stops me.

"What are you thinking just walking off when you don't know this town, and when one of us aren't with you? I saw that creepy bloke following you, and I don't even wanna think what he was thinking about you." he walks around to face me and I move my book bag that's starting to weigh heavy on my shoulder.

"You didn't read the note?" I think aloud in hardly a whisper and he looks confused.

"What note?"

"Paul, just leave me alone, please." I say, but I'm lying to myself and to him, I don't want to leave him.

"You... No...You aren't trying to leave leave, now are you?" he says in between pauses and I bite my bottom lip.

"What do you think?" I ask with no expression and he stuffs his hands in his pockets and I think about walking off again, but I don't want to.

"Where are you planning on going, huh? Considering you're from the states, definitely not here. You don't know this place, and it's a big town. You'd get lost, Courtney!" he says and I huff.

"I'm not a little kid, Paul! I can take care of myself." I fight back, but I know he won't be giving in by the look on his face.

"To me you are." he argues and I shake my head.

"Just because I'm two years younger than you doesn't make you any more mature than me!" I disagree after thinking of how we shared our birthdays last night before bed and I leave my stance there in front of his rigid figure in my worn tennis shoes.

Sure enough he follows after me, he just won't give up while tears threaten to break through the floodgates of my eyes and he gets in front of me. I try to dodge him and walk around him but we both go the same way once or twice and I give up and walk the other way now crying. I stop to stand in front of a dirty, brick wall here in the alley and I feel his hand on my arm and he turns me towards him to face him and he pulls me into his arms, I somehow let him. I cry into his chest while I grip his shoulders and he rubs my back and cradles my head.

"Don't cry darling, it's okay." he attempts to comfort me with his now soft voice, but I can't stop, I've held all of this in for so long.

Once I finally got it all out, unfortunate onto his nice shirt, I stand there in his patient arms while he sings to me in his voice that I have always found solace in. I couldn't count the times when school got to be too much, when I got in a fight with a friend, when my mom had made some rude comment to me that added the last stick onto the pile where I just broke down and cried while listening to my iPod that played Beatles songs or Paul's solo career. When nobody else was there for me, the beatles were, Paul was. Music has always been there for me.

"You're okay, it's okay." his British accented voice says and he goes back to singing while I stay silent no longer crying.

"**_Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, tomorrow I'll miss you. Remember I'll always be true, and then while I'm away I'll write home every day_**.." he sings softly, I've always liked this song, he did such a great job performing it on Ed Sullivan in what will be 5 months.

I sniffle and raise my head to meet his hazel eyes that set themselves on me and I feel bad that he saw my cry, I'm usually not like that in front of people I don't know, I keep a lot to myself. I wipe my cheeks and lean against the building wall and I stare at the ground.

"Do you want to finally tell me that story that keeps putting you in tears?" he suggests and I look to him.

"But-." I protest but he interrupts.

"I know that it's long and it may sound pathetic, but there's a nice restaurant around the corner with the best chips and burgers in town, and their malts are killer. What'd ya say? I wanna hear this story, 'cause I don't like seeing a lovely girl like you crying." he barges in and I nod my head up and down.

He takes my hand and leads me down the dark alleyway back to the lit sidewalk and we approach the fancy looking diner where i see from the window couples sitting in booths, and we walk through the door to get a booth of their own.

I sit across from him and I set my bag next to me and I don't touch the menu. The waitress approaches us in a pencil skirt with a buttoned sweater and glasses.

"Hello loves, what can I get you two today?" the older looking lady greets us and I see her name tag to read 'Pearl'.

"We'll have two of your burgers, two things of chips, and two chocolate malts please for the lady and I." Paul orders for us both and he fixes his kind of messy hair.

He sees me looking at him and he flashes me a warm smile, and I suddenly know that everything is going to be okay.

"Now how about you tell me that story I never got to hear, hmm?" he proposes and I sigh and look at the red table top, it looks like I'm about to bare it all, there's so much to tell to this man who i look up to, where do I begin?


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I'm really not feeling the best about this part, so I hope you like it and maybe leave me a review with your thoughts? Thanks.**

I sigh and look to my fingernails that I pick at as the hum of several conversations flutter around the free air of this restaurant that smells of greasy burgers, soda, and fried doughnuts.

"I don't know where to start." I admit in a quiet voice as I'm lost in my clutter of thoughts inside of my head.

"Why are you so sad, love? What happened to that lively girl I got to know over this last day who smiled and laughed?" he seems to ignore my question and asks me this instead.

"You hardly even know me." I mutter and I look up to meet his deep eyes that lay on me.

"I know that your name is Courtney Oakes, that you're 19, and that you're going to college to be an art teacher but you're doubting your decision. I know that you have pretty red hair, and round brown eyes. I know that you're an only child and that you're favorite color is green. I know that we have a lot in common, such as that we enjoy the same hobbies like reading and listening to music. I also have figured out that you're a Beatles fan and that you're a lovely girl." he replies with this lengthy list.

"It sounds like you do you know me, but.." I trail off and I huff and glance out the window where a few happy girls walk in a huddle down the sidewalk with grins on their faces.

"But what?" he questions and the waitress then returns with our malts in tall glasses with a straw and whip cream on the top, it looks like how it does in movies or pictures.

I take a drink from the beverage and I actually smile at the divine taste, and how smooth and creamy it is. The restaurants back home had malts where they tried to duplicate the good old malt from this time, to have the epitome of this, but they never succeeded and my how this is so yummy. I swallow and set the glass down to glance to Paul who drinks from his and he notices me looking at him and he makes eye contact.

"Why'd you decide to leave out of nowhere this morning without telling any of us?" he questions a silent minute later and the ding of the front door is heard as a pile of customers enter through the door.

"I didn't not tell any of you, Ringo knew and I uh left a note on your bed." I find the courage to use my voice more and I slowly work on the delicious chocolate malt in front of me.

"Okay, but why didn't you straight out tell me or any of the others?"

"Because you would've stopped me from leaving." I reply with the obvious answer and he nods his raven haired head in a vertical motion slowly.

"I left because I was just pestering you guys and giving you troubles, and I hate troubling you. I was more of a problem than any help." I reveal and I cross my legs.

"You weren't giving us any troubles." he disagrees.

"Yeah right! What do you call getting into a fight over me staying with you all?" I retort and he runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

"John can just be stubborn sometimes and it's take a lot for him to trust somebody. Just come back to the flat with me please?" he requests and I shake my head 'no'.

The older waitress exits the back of the counter with our tray of food to set down on our table in front of us and it both looks and smells delicious. We both pull our own basket towards us with the burger wrapped in paper and what I call fries sit next to the burger on the layer of paper that's draped in the basket, and I pop one of the hot fries into my waiting mouth. People surely don't know what they're missing out in 2012, with these fantastic fries that are perfectly crispy and that have the right amount of salt on them. Our ideal cuisine 49 years into the future is full of fat, empty calories and sugary foods that do nothing but bad things to our bodies. Not that food from this time is perfectly healthy, but hey it tastes ten times better.

I bite from the buttery burger after putting ketchup under the bun and I think I just tasted heaven, or so it seems, with the soft bun, the juicy burger and the melted cheese. I smile and Paul looks at me with a raised eyebrow and with a very weird expression on his face.

"What, you've never had a burger before?" he inquires and I can't help but to laugh and his hearty one joins the volume of mine.

"Yes, just not one this good." I reply after our short spout of laughing dries up and he snickers with a grin before popping a fry in between his pink lips.

"Well they say that they have the best burgers in London, and I'm a firm believer of that." he comments and I sense that there's still some tension or maybe awkwardness between us since some questions sit unanswered for us.

"I second that." I remark and I take a few gulps from my shrinking malt.

We eat our greasy but filling meals in mostly silence as British voices surround us in mostly incoherent talk while the radio from behind the counter finishes what I think to be a Little Richard song and the commentator comes on to speak. I eat one last salty fry before pushing my basket away with a full stomach and I sip from my malt one last time. Paul shortly finishes after me and the the nice lady named Pearl comes by to take our plates and she leaves the check for Paul.

"I'm sorry I can't help with it." I mumble as he gets his wallet out to find the right bills and he sets them on the table and replaces his wallet in his pocket.

"Don't apologize love, it's perfectly alright." he replies with a reassuring smile and I smile back at him, I don't even have a penny on me.

Pearl comes back to pick the check and the money up and she gives us a nice farewell and have a nice day before tending to a new bout of customers at the door.

I sigh and crack my knuckles and Paul makes a disgusted face and I rest my hands in my lap.

"Ew, that sounds so gross." he comments and I shrug silently.

"Paul-." I begin after pondering the thought for a moment.

"You don't have anywhere to stay, huh?" he suspects and I shake my head side to side with a blank face.

"But you don't want to stay at our flat." he remarks, but he's wrong.

"I do, but I don't want to bug you, or heck make you guys fight." I correct him and he folds his hand to rest on the table.

"We fight without you being there love, and actually I think you level us out some, and some of us think before we speak when you're there surprisingly."

I simply nod my head because I don't know what else to do and he looks around the area dense with young people, and he gets up and nods for me to follow. We leave the loud restaurant to encounter the not so warm fall air where cars honking their horns at each other fill the streets air, bright advertisements sit on the walls of brick buildings for all to see and a Beatle stands next to me with his hand in his pocket. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes from that pocket of his and as much as I probably shouldn't I accept when he offers me one and he kindly lights it for me.

"Lets go somewhere to talk then, I still wanna hear that story. I think there's a nice park up a block or two." he states and I walk after him once he starts and I blow out the puff of cigarette smoke into the London air.

He treads in front of me with a hand in his pocket and his hand dangles to his side after he takes a drag from the cancer stick that ends up getting him into several other drugs in the coming years, I wonder if he ever regrets it. Women clad in long dresses, with their hair in curls or having their bangs pulled back with a clip, walk by us silently. I feel like such an outsider, but that's what I am, being from another time. I don't even look like people from this day, with my dated clothes that don't nearly resemble theirs and the knowledge I have that they don't. These teenage guys sitting on a bench in tight jeans and a t shirt don't know that the sticks of nicotine they suck on and inhale, are slowly killing them with each cheek full of smoke they take in. I cough and toss mine on the ground to stamp it out with the heel of my foot, what was I thinking? I gain back my steps to be behind Paul again who walks kind of fast and we cross a street to find a park with a tall fountain, a few benches and a swing set in our view.

Paul goes for the left swing on the set that only has two swings and i take the other, and I start to pump my legs.

"I had a great childhood, but my parents started fighting more than usual a couple of years ago and then my dad discovered my mom cheating on him. The papers for their divorce were finalized the other day." I begin into the autumn air where the sounds of birds chirping flows into my ears and I'm lifted off of the leaf strewn ground.

"I never had divorced parents, so I can't say that I know what you're experiencing, but I've gone through the step parent phase and it's not a whole lotta fun." he comments and I cock my head to my right to see him swinging and he gives me an encouraging smile.

"But if your parents didn't-?" I know the whole story about his mom passing, but I can't let him know that so I play along.

"Mum died of cancer when I was 14, and dad remarried 3 years ago to a lady who has a young daughter of her own." he informs me.

"Speaking of cancer my aunt has it, this rare kind, and they don't know if she'll make it. I was so surprised when I found out, and I'm scared if she will make it or not," I remark and I look to him with forming tears in my brown eyes. "How do you deal with it?" I ask him and a sad look comes onto his face.

"There's no real way to deal with it, Court. I wish I had a better answer for you, but you just have to take it day by day really." he mumbles and a tear falls onto my cheek.

"What if she doesn't make it, Paul? How do you handle it?" I ask the unavoidable question with my voice that threatens to break.

He exhales a sad sigh and gets off to his swing and I do too and he envelopes me in his arms.

"The only thing you can do is to face it and grieve. It's going to be one of the hardest things you'll do, love, but you'll heal. I know how it seems like time doesn't really heal wounds, but it actually does." he hugs me and says against my hair.

"Do you miss her often?" I mutter into his chest while once again I'm drenching his shirt with my tears, I feel like a cry baby.

"Every day." his simple answer speaks for itself along with his serious tone of voice and I sniffle.

"How do you stop it from breaking apart your family?" I mutter into his soft shirt while my head lays on his chest.

"You don't, because you can't. My mum passing like she did changed my family, and even though we're still rather close today, there's still that thing missing, that closeness I don't think we'll ever have again." he answers my question and he runs his hand up and down my back in a comforting way.

"Do you believe in God?"

"Not really, I've been kind of mad at him for the past 7 years," he remarks. "Do you?"

"Yeah I suppose, but I don't understand how he can let things like this happen." I comment and I let out a shaky sigh.

"I reckon it's all apart of life, as crappy as it is to endure." he says slowly as he seems to be struggling with an answer to give me.

I pull away from the hug and we walk back to our swings to swing more and I wipe my wet cheeks to stare up at the blue sky with the soft clouds that are scattered across it.

"If you ever go back home are you gonna switch from parent to parents house, or just stay with one?" Paul's soft voice interrupts the balanced silence and I look to my floating feet while I sway in the swing.

"My mom wants me to stay with her and her new boyfriend, but I really wanna stay with my dad. My mom is such a bad mom." I speak into the afternoon air.

"She's your mum, Court." he appears to disagree, and I shake my head.

"I know, but she's hurt me so many times over the years with the decisions she's made over the years that have impacted me. She always thinks about herself, and I'm sure she regrets having me. I was just some oops baby my parents didn't plan on having. I'm the reason they had a courthouse wedding and now are divorced."

"Don't say that, it's not true. I'm sure a parent could never regret their own child, and it's not your fault that they ended up where they are." he comments after I finish and I click the heels of my shoes together to make a sound.

"You should meet my mother." I reply with a sarcastic tone.

I shake my head with a doubting feeling and a boy on a bicycle flies by on the sidewalk.

"Why are you so mad at her?" he questions randomly, as if its theoretical almost.

"Because she's always been focused on herself since I could remember. She's never been there for me, because her work and habits came before me. When I needed new clothes for school, she would instead buy expensive clothes to fill her growing closet when mine was empty. I know I might be sounding selfish, but it's the truth."

"You don't sound selfish." his quiet voice utters and I look to his soft face that is plastered on my bedroom walls back home in magazine excerpts, on book covers as well as magazines, on paintings and drawings of mine, on posters and in the pictures on my cell phone.

I've never felt this comfortable around somebody who isn't judging every word I say or reading into the sentences I speak. For once somebody is actually listening to me, and I can't express how great it feels. I don't know how I'm not still shocked to speak to him and to have his flawless face before me with his lovely voice flowing from his lips as he speaks directly to me, and cares about me, but I enjoy the wonders and craziness of whatever the hell this journey is supposed to be.

**AN: I'm sorry to leave it kind of sappy and all, but I hope to turn that around in the next few chapters.**


	8. Chapter 8

"What habits?" I knew he would ask that question and I think silently to myself before coming up with a decent answer.

"Uh she went out partying a lot with friends to get drunk, and she abused pharmaceutical drugs for some conditions she apparently has." I answer after some careful thinking.

I wanted to include that she heavily smokes cigarettes, but I didn't want to seem like some hypocrite since I was just smoking one myself, and I notice that he tosses his on the paved ground to put out with the heel of his shoe.

"That must be pretty rough, I understand why you wouldn't want to live with her." he comments, finally somebody understands.

"When are you gonna go back then, to move in with your dad?"

"Are you getting sick of me already?" I joke and I meet his gaze.

"Nah, not even in the slightest, you're a fun girl and you don't act like a complete nut like so many others do around me." he replies with a smirk and I smile, I'm pretty surprised myself that I'm acting normal around him, I thought I'd act like a crazy if I was to ever meet him.

"I don't know." I answer honestly, because I have no real way of knowing when I'll be going back, he's probably wondering why I'm even here in the first place.

I glance around at the tall trees surrounding us with their leaves that are a beautiful assortment of colors, and most of them lay on the ground under a pigeon or a robins pair of orange feet. I huff and drag the front of my shoe across the ground to only raise it again off the pavement.

"Did you come here on your own to visit family or friends, and got lost?" he theorizes and I think about telling him about my guess of time traveling here, but it's still too early to.

"Yeah, I uh got a plane out here after a day of school to just escape I guess, and it took all my money getting here. I'm not that great of a planner it seems." I hate to lie to him, but what else am I supposed to tell him?

"If you're having problems with your parents, then why don't you move out and get a place of your own?" he brings up what I've been thinking so much these past few weeks.

"I can't afford it, and I also couldn't juggle the rent with a friend. I can't find a good enough paying job." I admit with an embarrassed look while I continue to hover over the ground dirty with torn leaves and cigarette butts.

"Why don't you move here and get a job? You know, a fresh start, and since you already have a place to stay for now and a few good friends, you're set." he states and I smile genuinely at his words, he really is so kind.

I tear my eyes away from the wildly colored maple and oak leaves to meet his eyes the shade of a light brown and he raises the black lines of his eyebrows at me.

"Do you know any places that are hiring?" I inquire and I think of all of my stuff I have back home that I'm not exactly missing, but I've gotten used to being without, and some I could possibly find here.

I miss the modern things of mine the most; my laptop, my iPod, cell phone and CDs. I long to have my drawing pad and bag of drawing pencils in my lap, and I miss the feeling of a camera in the palms of my hands. Now that I'm experiencing it I really do hate not having many clothes to wear, or hardly any really, I hope that'll change soon.

"I thought I saw a 'help wanted' sign in the window of the diner, and they pay pretty good I've heard. I'm sure there's loads of other places, you just have to look." he answers and I nod my head up and down.

"Do you think we could go back there for me to get an application?" I ask.

"Sure." he answers and we slow down on our swings to leave the vacant park full of kids and people walking their dogs while happy birds fly above them.

We get walking and we return to the cracked sidewalk that's uneven in places over here by the park and I look to Paul who stares at the ground with his hands stashed away in his pockets. I look to the shops with cars parked in front by the curb that we go by and I hear music coming from seemingly a music store as the door opens when somebody leaves with a bag in their hand.

"Are you close with your dad?" Paul asks me and we come up to a stoplight and we wait for the traffic to stop so we can cross the street.

"I used to be, but he just stopped spending time with me and talking to me as much as he used to, so I've always felt like he's been mad at me or something." I answer and he looks to me with a sad look.

"Did you ever try to talk to him or just go and have coffee together?"

"A few times, but I just stopped trying and caring after my attempts failed." I comment and the traffic stops and we cross.

The bright diner appears in my eyes again and we enter the place full of conversation and smelling of food which now kind of appalls me since I'm so full from eating here I don't even know how long ago. We make our way to the counter where who else but Pearl comes from what I think to be the kitchen and she flashes me a small smile. Paul nods his head at me to speak and I shyly blush.

"I was wondering if I could have an application." I inquire and she bends down a bit to grab one single sheet from probably a shelf of some sort below the cash register and I take that and a black pen from her offering hand.

"Thanks." I reply and she nods before turning her head to answer the voice of a man from the kitchen who's calling to her.

Paul and I take a seat each at the counter there on the apple red bar stools and I take the cap off of the pen and I skim over the papers questions.

I fill in my name, first and last, and then after thinking about my height and weight I write those in. The top portion consisting of age, sex, date of birth and marital status were a piece of cake.

"You haven't been arrested, have you, Court?" Paul questions with a sly smile when I arrive to the blank asking of any criminal charges and I smile at his joking words.

"No, have you?" I reply and he shakes his head with a funny look, and then he just smiles, that liar.

"You wouldn't be lying to me, now would you?" I tease him a bit after remembering some embarrassing story from the Beatles' Hamburg days.

"No, me lie to you," he replies with his cheeks that start to faintly flush with embarrassed color and I raise my brows a tad at him. "Yes I have once, but ya can't tell a soul, and I'd erm rather not say what it was for." he replies and I just nod and look back to my paper, oh Paul.

I of course skip the part about having any children, their ages, owning my car, even though I have my own back home, and it's dependability. I next read a question about being pregnant and I circle no, and look to the black clock above my eye level across from us on the wall that reads early afternoon.

"You got a place to be?" Paul asks playfully and I shake my head 'no'.

I come to the part about where I went to school, and I fill in where I went after remembering they've been up and running for a good 50 years.

"Finished." I state after writing my answer to the last question and I look to Paul who pretends to be asleep with his dark head resting on his folded arms that lay on the countertop, he doesn't budge.

I remove the cap and inch toward his revealed cheek with the pen and his eyes shoot open and he moves away.

"Don't you dare." he remarks with a glare and I see an amused smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Well maybe if you wouldn't be falling asleep on me, then I wouldn't be thinking about drawing on your face." I reply and he grabs the pen from me and he gets my cheek with it and I punch his arm jokingly but he holds his hurt bicep with a frown.

I take the pen away from him and his hand falls from him arm and he begins to chuckle like a kid and I shake my head with a smile.

"It's not funny, you're not the one with pen on your cheek!" I exclaim and he hides his blushing face in his folded arms and his figure shakes with laughter.

I huff and Pearl appears back and a look of confusion appears on her face at the sight of Paul who thinks this is much funnier than it really is, that dork.

"More like all over your cheek." Paul adds with his muffled voice and I return my eyes to the waitress with my blushing cheeks.

"I'll get you a wet napkin, love." she kindly offers and I jab Paul's waist and he flinches as if he's ticklish and I smile.

"Don't." Paul states and he removes his still pink face from his arms after getting over that bout of laughter and I tickle his middle again and he squirms.

"Here." Pearl returns with the most napkin and I thank her and grab the napkin holder to use as a mirror, but it's a bad mirror actually.

I try to wipe the black pen marks off my right cheek, and Paul takes the napkin from my hand and spins my chair to face him.

"Let me, I can see it better, and I was the one who struck you after all. I might as well be a nice gentlemen and help ya." he volunteers and he places his right hand under my chin to hold it and his gaze catches mine or mine caught his, one of the two.

"You make it sound like I'm annoying or something." I add on and he shakes his head immediately and he smiles at me.

I smile and a small grin sticks to his lips as he gently wipes off the pen from my cheek and he finishes.

"Thanks, even though you did get me with the pen."

"You're welcome, and you shouldn't of been tickling me you know." he adds on and I giggle and turn back to the counter and I give Pearl the completed job application.

I glance back to Paul whose fist is propped up against his cheek while he faces the same way I do on his seat while he somewhere had gotten a magazine and I peer over his shoulder to see a picture of some actors, and I notice one of them to be Jane Asher. I had forgotten until now that at this time Paul is dating her.

Paul looks up to see me there by his shoulder staring at the black and white picture he holds in his hands.

"You see that girl there? Her name is Jane, she's my girlfriend, she's an actress. We've been dating for a couple of months." he tells me and I simply nod my head in mostly disinterest.

"Oh, how old is she?" I go along with this even though I have a small idea of her age.

"She's 17, she lives here in town, she's really great." he continues to speak fondly of her and I glance to the clock mindlessly and then back to my hands and I play with my thumbs before folding my hands.

"Mm, what's she like?" I randomly ask for no effect or reason.

"She's really nice, very pretty and a fantastic actress." he answers and I don't nod, but instead play with one of the bracelets on my pale wrist.

"Something the matter?" Paul questions and I had gotten lost staring at a picture on the wall of apparently some celebrity I don't know who had eaten here some time ago.

"No." I reply after turning my head to face him and he looks back to the magazine and he turns the page before closing it and setting it down where he had found it, I oddly didn't notice it being there before.

"What'd ya wanna do now?" he asks while I read a framed newspaper article on the wall across from Paul.

"I don't care."

"Do you got any more of that story to share?" he inquires and I admit I don't feel like talking about any of that right now.

"Maybe later?" I suggest and my eyes leave the printed words to rest on him.

"Yeah sure, so do you uh maybe wanna go back to the flat and we can find something to do there? Us lads have the lad day off and I think John went to go spend time with his erm- somebody." Paul stutters a bit at the last part and after thinking about it, I realize that he was possibly going to say Cyn, but maybe he decided against it because at this time it isn't, wasn't a good idea to have the fans knowing that John was, is married with a kid. It's still nuts to be in this time, it's no longer in past tense, but in the present.

"Yeah." I reply after his eyes had wandered to something or somebody and we hop off the stools to exit the full restaurant and we next encounter the sidewalk where in the blue sky the sun is struggling to peek from behind the fluffy clouds.


	9. Chapter 9

We arrive back at the flat after some walking to find Ringo and John in and I flash them both small smiles when we enter the kitchen, and John and I share an unspoken peace it seems. I wandered into the bathroom to wash my hands and to use the toilet and once I exit I hear my name being called.

"Yeah?" I call back and Paul's face comes into view as I enter the kitchen and he hands me the phone.

"It's the diner." he whispers as my hand muffles the mouth piece and I sigh.

"Hey, don't fret, maybe it's some good news." he encourages and he squeezes my shoulder before going to the fridge and I take a deep breath before answering with a nervous 'hello'.

"Hi, is this Courtney?" I hear a friendly voice say from the other side.

"Yes this is." I reply and I hear the refrigerator door shut and Paul treads out of the room.

"I just read over your application, and I'd love for you to come in possibly today or tomorrow and I can give you the tour and start your training. You're still interested, right?" I recognize the female voice to be Pearl and I smile and cross my arms over my chest, I really need to change out of these clothes.

"Yeah of course, which day would be better and what time should I be there?" I reply and I hear the front door shut and a mix of voices from the living room.

"Whichever works better for you." she suggests and a soft laugh echoes from the other room where the others are.

"Well I don't have anything to do today, so would today be okay?" I reply and I tap my hand against the edge of the kitchen counter.

"Yes of course, the sooner the better. It's 12:30 right now, so would 1 work for you?" she questions and I tell her yes.

"Yeah, I'll be there." I comment and she gives me a kind goodbye, before we both hang up and I linger there in the kitchen.

I walk up to the doorway to see the three guys, and a red head with her back to me, and I see it to be who else but Jane Asher when she turns her head to look at Paul. I go back over to the counter and I really wish I wasn't stuck here in the kitchen, and I know I could go out into the living room, but I also don't want to do that. What I want to do is to go up those stairs to change into different and clean clothes. I huff and stare at my feet and what I hear is the voices and soon footsteps that enter the kitchen.

"Hey love, is something wrong? Oh, what did the diner say on the phone?" Paul meets me in the kitchen and I raise my eyes to his and his hands sit in his pockets.

Before I get the chance to answer his question a voice interrupts. "Paul, where are you?" the high pitched voice calls out and Jane who the voice belongs to enters in a brown skirt and a button up shirt, she really does look like a teenager who's 17.

"Oh, hey darling, what is it?" Paul questions and I couldn't help but to notice Jane stealing a few looks at me and she didn't look exactly pleased to find me there with her boyfriend.

"That new movie we've wanted to see starts at five after, so if you still want to go we should get going sometime soon. Do you want to?" she proposes this to Paul and I mindlessly glance around the room as I feel like the third wheel in this awkward situation I'd rather not be in.

"Um I dunno right now, darling." he answers her and I stay silent as I wish to get out of here and no longer be bored.

"Do you wanna come with, Court? The lads are coming with their birds too." Paul suggests to me after we lock eyes and I shake my head 'no'.

"No thanks, the diner actually wants me to come by in a little bit." I reply since that we would terribly awkward and Paul nods with a bit of a disappointed look and Jane has an expectant look on her face while waiting for Paul's answer.

"Oh."

"I'm gonna go change then." I conclude and I don't wait for him to comment as I got out of their way to bound up the stairs to his room where I find the untouched bag of clothes.

I change there in his room with the door of course shut and I had decided on a pair of the pants and one of the other nice shirts I had gotten yesterday. I turn around to find a round mirror on his wall and I take out my long braid to re do and I expertly French braid my red hair that's a lot similar to Jane's, but longer. I've come up with a lot of new ways to do my hair with having it so long and I got easily bored with just putting it in a ponytail or a bun. I look myself over quickly in the mirror reflecting my image and I leave my bag on the floor by his bed to go back downstairs to find Paul and Jane sitting on the couch together looking all cuddly. Paul has always been my favorite my favorite Beatle, and I agree with the nickname of him being the cute Beatle, so i guess you could say I'm not exactly liking what I'm seeing. Another reason why I'd like to get out here and be by myself, I enjoy being alone in my own world to get away, I need one of those breathers right about now.

I wander into the kitchen to find Ringo searching through the cabinets for probably something to eat and his head turns in my direction.

"Hey, Courtney."

"Hi Ringo, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind walking me to The Roadside diner a few blocks away. I got a job there and I just want to get out of here for awhile." I ask him quietly with the hopes that he'll say yes.

"Yeah, of course I wouldn't mind a walk and I'd like a smoke too." he replies and I smile at him.

"I'm gonna go use the loo quick." he states and he walks off to leave me in the kitchen alone and Paul enters without Jane on his arm.

"Hey, where you off to?" he questions with furrowed brows.

"The diner." I reply and he sighs.

"All by yourself again? Courtney-." he takes it the wrong way and I cut in.

"Calm down, Ringo is going to walk me there. I'm not completely hopeless, Paul. Have a little faith in me." I barge in and he relaxes and nods his head vertically at my words.

"Alright, I'm erm sorry for overreacting. Be careful though, alright? If somebody gives you a hard time there just let me know and I'll handle it," he apologizes. "And I hope you have a nice time, when do ya reckon you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure, I'll be back for dinner definitely." I reply and he runs his thumb over his bottom lip while he seems to think.

"Okay then, and when you're finished give the flat a ring so one of us can walk with you back." he recommends.

"Paul, I can figure out how to get back here after going there a few times."

"Yeah maybe you can, but just do it, kay? I don't want something happening to you or anything." he adds on and I say that I will and he returns to his schoolgirl girlfriend.

"Let's go." Ringo states after getting his shoes on and we leave the flat and I again meet the London streets and it's citizens.

"Ya got a job there, as a waitress I reckon?"

"Mmhmm. I'm doing some training today." I reply and he lights a cigarette in his fingers to take a long drag from it.

"Ah well that's great, I hope you enjoy it." he adds on with a smile and we talk some more about irrelevant things on our walk and he waves at me before I enter the diner to find Pearl at the register.

"Hello, love. What're you doing here early? It's only twelve forty-two." she says and I remember that.

"Oh well I thought it wouldn't of hurt to come in early, I wanted to get away from home." I reply and a smile appears on her lips marked with red lipstick.

"Ah, well you're always welcome here." she replies and I thank her.

She started me with putting on a red waist apron over my clothes and she told me to wear pants with a white or red shirt, and otherwise a dress for work. She started me with a tour of the place; the booths in front of the counter as well as the tables and booths on the outside of the square walls, next behind the counter and the kitchen.

"This is the main cook Marty, a few other waitresses, and the sous chef Robbie." Pearl introduces the kind staff who all give me a wave and Robbie caught my eye, he looks about my age.

"That's Robbie, huh?" I causally ask Pearl as I sit at the counter afterwards in front of her as she fills up the coffee maker behind the counter.

"Yes, he's quite the chef and he's only 19. He went to college a year for the culinary arts and came here to get a job, and he makes the best kind of stuff. The doughnuts are all him, and he makes brilliant soup," she tells me about this tall, brunette haired boy with crystal blue eyes that wouldn't fail to put any girl under their spell. "He's a nice boy, he is, and he likes to tell a lot of jokes. The two of you will get on well, I know it." she concludes and she flashes me a smile before servicing an old man a few seats down from me and I look to the geezer who smiles at me with his dentures and then he winks at me, and I can't forget how he wiggled his eyebrows, oh boy.

I laugh to myself after I turn away from him and I look back to my folded hands with an amused grin. I already like this job and the place, with the nice people and the comfortable atmosphere. I'm glad to be out of the apartment where I still feel not all that welcome, and here I already feel like I'm home. I know how soon it is to think that about a job I started twenty minutes ago, but honestly it's true.

Pearl gave me a few burger baskets, coffees or little things to deliver to tables, but I mostly talked to the other waitresses and watched them.

"Pearl?" Robbie calls out for the head waitress who i heard from another waitress has been working here since she was a teen herself, her dad used to own it, and left it to her when he died early on in his life.

"Would you happen to know where Pearl is?" he turns to me and says and I shake my head 'no'.

"The last time I saw her she went out back for a smoke." I reply and be nods his head with a grin and he walks around to take a seat by me.

"Robbie Stevens." he holds out a hand for me to shake which I do and we share small smiles.

"Courtney Oakes."

"It's nice to meet you, Courtney. I couldn't help but to notice your accent love, you're from the U.S. right?"

"Yeah." I reply and he nods and looks ahead and he runs his hand through his hair that's in a style like Paul's used to be during their Hamburg days, but his is a light brown.

I notice his blue eyes again that are round and I can't deny that he is rather good looking.

"You on break too?"

"Mmhmm." I reply and he pulls at the short sleeves of his white t shirts before getting up.

"Well I'm gonna go back to the kitchen."

"But I thought you're on break." I say, confused.

"That's how I spend my break, cooking and making up new recipes. You can come along if you like, maybe I can give you a few pointers." he replies and I follow him back to empty kitchen and he takes a pan full of oil sitting on the stove and he pours the oil out.

"Have ya ever made doughnuts?"

"No, I love to eat them though." I reply with a smile and he grins too and he pours some gold colored oil from a clear jug into the pot.

"Well I'll teach you, and you'll be helping me make batches in no time." he comments and he finds a bowl with plastic wrap over the top from a bottom shelf below the metal counter.

"We'll start with simple; the glazed doughnuts and doughnut holes." he begins and I lean against the slab of tiled wall next to the counter to watch him.

I see how he takes a ball of dough from the batch to roll it out onto the floured surface and he expertly cuts it and shows me the end result of a dough ring, he tosses it in the bubbling oil.

"Come here, so you can learn." he waves me over and I walk over with a nervous smile and he stands behind me and hands me the right amount of dough.

"Now roll it out so it's a sheet." he tells me and I take the rolling pin and he places his hands over mine to help me roll it out to the desired thickness and I smile.

"That's good, now just take the cutter and cut a circle, then the smaller cutter to make the hole." he directs me and I do as he says.

"There, you made a doughnut!" he exclaims with a giant smile and I show a proud grin and he places that and the hole in the oil.

I was helping with cleaning up after he made the batch, fried it and laid them in baskets lined with paper for the waitresses to take and we got in the others way accidentally. We lock eyes and he wipes the flour off of my cheek that I had forgot about being there and he glances to my lips and after a few seconds he clears his throat and makes a funny face. We both laugh and finish with the small clean up before I had to leave to go talk to Pearl quickly.

"I see you met Robbie."

"Yeah, we made doughnuts together. He's a lot of fun, and a great cook too, those doughnuts are killer." I reply as I help her clear dirty tables and she wipes one.

I continue to help her until she lets me go for the day and I asked to use the phone up front and Robbie stops in front of the counter as I take awhile to put the number in, phones are so different in this time.

"Need a ride or something?"

"Just somebody to walk me home, I don't exactly know where I'm going. I'm new here." I explain and he offers to walk me and I leave the phone on its hook.

I tell him where I'm staying at and we chatted about our hobbies, dislikes, family, favorites and similar things. I found that we both have a lot in common; we like to read, listen to music, sleep in, be by ourselves at times and to try new things.

"I'll see you later then. Bye, Courtney." he bids as his hands are in the pockets of his black jacket as we stand away from the step up the flats door.

"Thanks for walking me, and yeah I'll talk to later. See ya, Robbie."

"You're welcome, love. Had a good night." he concludes and I watch as he walks down the sidewalk and I turn to approach the door, I'm beginning to like today and just maybe I'm making a new friend here.

**AN: What do you think?**


	10. Chapter 10

I walk inside to find Paul alone on the couch playing his guitar and George cooking something in the kitchen, and I look to the clock on the wall across from Paul that reads 6 o'clock. Those five hours went by fast.

"Hey, Court." Paul greets me as I sit beside him on the couch and he stops playing the instrument.

"Wait, how'd you get home? You were supposed to call to have one of us get you." he remembers aloud in a stern voice.

"Paul, it's okay. I had a coworker walk me home, and he didn't mind." I tell him and his face relaxes.

"A coworker? What's his name?" he states and I rub my eyes.

"Yeah, his name is Robbie, and he's really nice."

"Oh." he simply replies with a blank look.

"What's this Robbie bloke like?" he questions.

"He's the sous chef at the diner, he's my age, really funny, and he's kind." I tell him and he just nods his black haired head at my response.

"How was that movie you and Jane went to?" I decide to ask and he sets his guitar on the floor and the neck rests against the table in front of us.

"It was alright, but we got in a fight on the way home. It was pretty stupid, but now she's mad at me." he reveals with a sad look.

"Oh I'm sorry." I apologize and he just shrugs it off and picks up his cup of already half drunken tea from the coffee table and he takes a gulp.

"It's fine, love," he remarks. "How was work then? They didn't work you too hard, did they?" he questions with a smirk and I shake my head.

"No, I just learned the ropes today and helped out with a few things. Robbie taught me how to make doughnuts though, they ended up tasting really good." I reply and his smile fades, and he just gives me a simple nod.

"I'll have to stop in and have some of these doughnuts you talk about then." he responds and I smile at his answer.

"You should, they're honestly the best ones I've ever had." I reply and he nods his head up and down with a small smile.

We leave the couch to eat dinner with George, and John and Ringo who shortly joined us and afterwards I found myself sitting on the couch in between John and Paul as the four play guitars and sing along, it was a Beatles fan dream come true. I look to Paul who harmonizes with John and he meets my eyes and smiles at me.

We end the night with that and I just change into the same pajamas from last night of Paul's and I find him in his bedroom setting up the sleeping bag again.

"Hey, love. You can have me bed again, and I'm just gonna take the sleeping bag." he states and I open my mouth to object and he stops me from doing so.

"Really, I don't mind." he tells me.

"What will Jane think?" I question.

"You're just sleeping in my bed, that's all." he concludes and I follow him to the bathroom downstairs where we brush our teeth before retreating back up to his bedroom, they found a extra toothbrush for me to use luckily.

Back in his room I try to get around him over to his bed as he intended to go over to his doorway where the light switch is to shut off the light. I accidentally run into him and I look up at his hazel eyes that look down on me as he's in pajamas similar to his ones from last night. His hand brushes away a strand of my long hair that was in my eye and his fingers run over my cheek ever so lightly and his face gets closer to mine as the seconds tick by, is this really about to happen? He leans in and I find myself doing the same and right before our lips touch I hear a knock on the almost closed door and we separate quickly.

"Can I come in?" I hear John's voice and I go over to his bed to pull back the covers and get under them, that was really close.

"Yeah." Paul mutters and he scratches his head.

"Remember we have to be at the studio by 10:30." John reminds Paul and I turn over to face the wall.

"Yeah, I know." Paul replies and he has John catch the light and Paul gets into the sleeping bag.

"Goodnight, Paul." I speak into the awkward silence.

"Goodnight, Courtney. Sleep well." he bids and I sigh before closing my eyes and I soon drift off to sleep.

* * *

I awake the next morning to find the spot by the floor empty and I glance to the clock on his wall to read a few minutes from ten and I quickly get out of bed as I remember that I work at 10:20. I grab a change of clothes and go down the stairs after putting my hair up to find the guys eating in the kitchen and I run into John on the way to the bathroom.

"Can I take a shower?" I question and he nods.

"Yeah, and oh, love. Cyn dropped off a box of clothes that she was going to give away, and you can have any of them that you need." he surprises me with his generosity and i grin.

"Thank you." I reply and he says 'you're welcome' and I go into the bathroom to quickly shower and I change into the clothes I brought with.

I go out to the living room to sit on the couch with the box in front of me and I realize I have barely any time to spare and I change into a nice short sleeved, black dress that I found in the box. I run into Paul as I walk over to the doorway for my shoes.

"Hey, speedy. Where are you off to?" he greets me and I remember what happened last night.

"Work." I reply and I get the black flats on and I toss my braid over my shoulder.

"Oh well come on then, I'm just about to leave for work too, so I can give you a ride." he offers and I follow him out to his car where I take my seat in the passengers seat up front to his left.

I look out at the traffic as we're both quiet and an awkward silence has fallen over us and we pull up in front of the diner.

"Uh we won't be home probably until late afternoon, but I suppose if that Robbie guy can walk you home or give you a ride, then that's fine," Paul says and I turn to face the sharp dressed guy. "Don't bust your hip working the counters or anything, but have fun and I'll see you later." he finishes.

"Thanks, you have a good day too." I reply and he flashes me a smile before I get out of his car and walk inside.

Robbie wasn't there all morning and I still hadn't seen him later that afternoon as I had the duty of pouring coffee into the mugs of the old men sitting at the counter. So far today I had been doing a bit more, like washing the dishes, delivering more food, getting people's drinks and still watching the other waitresses. I got to talking with them and of course Pearl who I talked to when people were content with their meal or order.

I was drying a plate back in the kitchen when Pearl asked for me.

"Hey Courtney, there's a customer out here asking for you." she tells me and my eyebrows fall since I don't know really anybody in this large town and I set the clean dish down next to the array of other silverware and bowls I had washed.

I dust off my apron and exit the behind of the counter and I walk over to where Pearl pointed me to, and I spot him. I see a dark haired man dressed in a white button up with a black tie now loosened, and in tight black pants. I smile and stop in front of him, and he lifts his eyes to me and smiles.

"Hi, my name is Courtney. Can I get you anything?" I introduce myself and he closes the menu that lays before him and he runs a hand through his hair.

"Yes miss, I'd love to have two of your glazed doughnuts that I've been hearing so much of." he answers and I dig out a pen and the pad for orders out of a pocket of my apron.

"Will that be all?" I question after writing that down and I meet his lovely hazel eyes, ah this man, I tell ya.

"Yeah, could you get me a cuppa tea, Court?" Paul asks, breaking off the mature talk, and I nod with a smile.

I return to behind the counter and I hear Robbie's voice coming from in back and I cock my head to see him toss on his apron and I hang up the piece of paper with Paul's order.

"Robbie, I need two of your doughnuts out here!" I tell him and he turns his head and smiles when he notices me, I smile back.

I grab a white mug to make Paul's tea and I soon get the basket with Paul's two doughnuts and I walk out to set it on the table him.

"Ta, dear. Hey, why don't you sit down?"

"I kind of have to get back to work." I state and I see a car go by out on the street through the window.

"I don't see them calling for you, Court." he proves a point and I sit on the other side of the booth from where he sits and he takes a bite from the pastry and holds it out for me.

"No thanks, it's yours." I object and he licks his thumb.

He takes a few more bites and holds it out for me again with raised eyebrows.

"I have another, love." he encourages and I take it from him and finish off the last few bites of the still warm doughnut.

I lick my fingers and rest my chin in my hand and I notice Paul looking at me and I look away with blushing cheeks.

"Do you like it here?" he questions and I look back to his eyes.

"Yeah, everybody's really nice here, and it's fun." I reply honestly and he takes a sip from his tea.

"Did you make my tea?" he questions and I nod at his question.

"It's good." he replies and I grin.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be off work until later." I state after a minute of him eating and me playing with my bracelet.

"We got let off early. We didn't have as many takes today, so it didn't take us as long as some days to get a song recorded." he explains and my eyes flit to Robbie who stands behind the counter and i secretly wave him over when Paul looked out the window.

He shakes his head with a decided look on his face and I do it again, and he relents and walks over.

"Are you liking the doughnuts, sir?" Robbie inquires Paul when he stops at the booth and Paul turns to him and I see him read his name tag.

"Yeah, they're very good. Courtney here was right when she told me they're the best." he replies and for some reason I thought Paul wouldn't be all that nice to him, so I'm kind of surprised.

"Thank you." Robbie responds and Paul nods his head at him as if he's giving him a silent 'you're welcome'.

"Paul McCartney." the man I sit across from holds out his hand to the guy I work with and they briefly shake hands.

"Robbie Stevens, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"You too." Paul replies and from the corner of my eye I notice Pearl waving us two over and I slip out of the booth.

"I have to go. Maybe I'll be back or else I'll see you later." I tell Paul.

"Okay, love." he replies and we share smiles before I go behind the counter and Robbie turns to me when we arrive in the kitchen far out of Paul's earshot.

"You didn't tell me that you know Paul McCartney!" he states and I stuff my hands in the pockets of my aprons.

"He's a good friend of mine, I didn't think to mention it to you." I state and he sighs.

"Yeah well The Beatles are only the most famous band of right now!" he exclaims and I realize where he's coming from, they were pretty popular even right now before full on Beatlemania happened in the United States.

"I know, Robbie. But he's really just like any guy you'll meet, he's pretty normal." I tell him and he nods and I follow him over to the stove.

"You're gonna have to get me an autographed picture one of these days." he jokes with a grin and I smile before I return to the dishes that I'm not yet finished with.

When I came back out some time later I found the booth that Paul was sitting in to be empty and I went to go pick up the check. I see his receipt where he drew a happy smiley face on and I grin at its appearance.

After my shift Robbie was nice enough to give me a simple lift home and I find only Paul to be home and he looks sad or something as he sits on the couch.

"Paul, is something wrong?" I question as I sit next to him and he sighs.

**AN: What are you thinking of these parts?**


	11. Chapter 11

"Paul?" I ask him and I hesitantly touch his shoulder.

"Jane won't talk to me."

"Why not?" I ask and my hand leaves his broad shoulder.

"She keeps jumping to these conclusions that something is going on between you and I." he reveals.

"But nothing is, why would she think that?" I question and he lifts his eyes to meet mine.

"I dunno, and she's wrong, because there isn't anything going on between us." he states a fact and I nod while I fold my hands.

"How'd the rest of your shift go?" he changes the subject and I look to him.

"It went really good, I'm really liking working there." I reply and he smiles.

"That's great to hear." he comments and I nod my head with a grin.

"Are you hungry or anything?" he questions.

"Yeah, kind of." I respond.

He gets up from the couch to walk into the kitchen and after a minute I follow him to get a glass of water while he's rummaging through the cupboards for a snack.

"Where are the others?" I question as I sit on the kitchen counter and I flick my braid off of my shoulder.

"With their girlfriends or somebody." he replies and I feel bad that just because of me staying here with them Paul and his girlfriend are fighting.

"What's wrong?" he catches on to my blank look and I lift my eyes from the half empty glass of water to his face.

"I'm just sorry that your girlfriend and you are fighting all because of me." I admit in a quiet voice.

"Eh don't sweat it, she'll get over it." he tells me and I nod with a small smile.

I take a look at the clock hanging above the counter next to the window right above the sink, and it reads 4:30. My shift went fast, and sometimes felt long, but I enjoyed it, and I'm coming to really like this job.

"Robbie freaked out on me because I never told him that I know you." I reveal to Paul with a smirk on my lips and I see his flattered look.

"He's quite the fan, huh?"

"I guess so." I reply and I take a drink from my water to finish off the glass.

"He seems like an alright fella." he states and I meet his eyes and nod my head vertically.

"What do you wanna do until din?" Paul questions after a few moments of nobody saying anything and I set my glass in the sink.

"I don't know, what're you thinking?" I reply and I stop walking to stand in front of him.

"I dunno, how does going to get fish and chips sound?" he proposes and I remember how he had eaten at the diner about two hours ago, and I had a snack then too.

"Sure." I reply and we both get our shoes on and leave the empty flat to occupy his car parked on the curb and he takes a turn at the stoplight once we're no longer stationary.

We come up to a fish and chip shop and he parks and we leave his trusty car to join the small line inside springing from the counter.

"Courtney, hey!" I hear a voice say and I turn around to see Robbie enter in his casual clothes and I smile.

"Hey Robbie, what're you doing here?" I question and Paul looks ahead at the menu with a bored look while he wears sunglasses.

"Oh I'm just stopping over for my lunch, are you doing the same?" I question and he nods and leaves to go use the bathroom, like he said.

I turn back to look at Paul who stands at my side and the line moves so we're at the counter and he kindly orders for both of us. He pays and we get our meals to find a circular table in the corner and we sit across from the other.

"We just can't seem to avoid that guy." Paul alludes to Robbie and I pick up a hot fry to eat.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I question about his comment.

"Nothing, just never mind." he replies and I shrug to myself and I wonder why he was being rude by saying that.

Robbie waves to me when he leaves the place with his food and i wave back and return to my greasy food.

"Is everything okay?" I ask Paul and he gives me a silent nod without speaking his answer and he takes a bite from the fillet of fish.

"You don't like Robbie, do you?" I voice my suspicion and I wipe my wet fingers on a napkin.

"No, I never said that." he replies and I take a drink from my milk carton we got with our meal.

"That's not what it looks like." I reply and he doesn't respond and a calm comes over us as we stick to eating our food.

"I dunno Court, I just have a funky feeling about him." he admits after a few seconds.

"But Paul, you don't even know him!" I exclaim and we lock eyes.

"And neither do you! He could be some bad guy for all you or I know!" he exclaims and I sigh.

"He's a really nice guy, Paul."

"Okay maybe he is, but I think he's a little too nice." he admits and I become confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Just, just forget I ever said anything." he mutters in a soft voice.

"Thanks for paying." I mumble after an awkward minute.

"Mmhmm." he replies with a look that I can't read and he finishes his last fry and walks over to the garbage to toss the paper basket into it.

I sense that he's lying, but I don't go any further with the questioning and he takes his seat by me again and once I finish I toss my leftovers in the trash too. We leave and return home to find the other three to be there and we spend the rest of the night together just talking about our day, they played guitar and sang once again, and we returned to playing a few board games to top our night off with some laughs and smiles.

"Are you sure something isn't wrong, Paul? Is that thing with Jane still bugging you?" I inquire later that night as I lay in his bed and he once again is in the brown sleeping bag on the floor next to me.

"No, I'm not worried about it or anything, why?" he replies softly and I recall him not acting like his cheery self at all after we went to get fish and chips.

"I was just wondering." I reply and I turn around to fall asleep.

* * *

We all went to work the next morning and I got a ride with Ringo instead, because Paul hasn't spoken a word to me all morning, and I felt that if i had asked I would've been bugging him.

"Do you know if something is going on with Paul?" I ask Ringo as he stops in front of the mostly dead diner and he shakes his head in answer.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious, thanks Ringo." I reply and I undo my seat belt.

"You're welcome love, have a lovely day."

"Thanks, you too." I reply and I get out of the car dressed in a dark red dress identical to the one I wore yesterday and I hear the ding of the bell when I enter.

I grab my apron and stand behind the counter pouring coffee and tea into customers mugs as the slow morning begins. I took on taking more of customers orders and also delivering their food, and I seemed to be doing a good job of that, and I stuck to doing the dishes and filling people's cups up. Robbie came in later that morning and he had been acting weird I had noticed, not much like himself, and he didn't bother to say a word to me. I kept to myself most of the day and I saw Robbie looking at me at one point when I was walking back to the counter from bringing a customer their milkshake they ordered. I wanted to talk to him so I basically confronted him, and in the end I wish I hadn't.

"Hey Robbie, how are you today?" I ask him as I go in back to get a few clean mugs for customers.

He ignores me as he cooks an order of over easy eggs at the stove and I find the stack of mugs and I grab the ones I need.

"Are you mad at me or something?" I ask him and he finishes the eggs to place them on a plate and he sets them out for a waitress to take.

"Can't you just leave me alone? I don't want to talk, okay?" he retorts and I'm shocked at his sudden angry tone.

"Robbie, did I do something to make you mad? If I did I'm sorry." I reply and he sets the spatula down and walks over to me with a hard look on his face.

"You're just a little tease that's what you are, flirting with me and then acting like you're too good for me." he states and I'm so confused.

"What are you talking about?" I ask and he gets closer to me so I back up but I run into the refrigerator and he cups my chin with his hand and pushes me against the fridge forcefully.

I drop the two mugs to clatter onto the hard floor into a hundred, little pieces and I look away from him and sigh.

"Don't play dumb, I saw you with Paul." he says and I try to move but he won't let me move.

"Paul! He has a girlfriend, you idiot!" I reply and he holds both my chin and my cheek with a hard grip and I feel his sharp fingernail dig into the skin on my cheek, maybe he even drew blood.

I hear Pearl's voice get louder as she probably walks over and he smashes his lips against mine in a forceful kiss and i struggle to push the creep away before he lets go and walks away back to the stove and Pearl enters through the open doorway.

"Is everything okay back here? I thought I heard something break." she states and her eyes flit to the broken mugs, and I blink away the forming tears in my eyes.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just tripped over something and dropped them. I'm sorry." I explain with my slightly shaky voice and I walk over to where the broom and dust pan are to clean the mess up with my unstable hands.

"Oh well I'm glad you're not hurt, love. It's okay, we have another order of those mugs coming in tomorrow, they were gonna be broken sooner or later." she responds and I dump the shards of broken ceramics into the trash once I have it cleaned up.

I look to the clock to see that for my luck my shift is over and I strip off my apron to hang it up, and I miss the hook, but I'm in too much of a hurry to get out of here to walk back over and fix it. I quit holding back the tears once I exit the restaurant and I walk down the sidewalk while tears blur my vision and I turn a corner to find a red telephone box and I open the door. I find a coin on the floor and fortunately it's just enough I need for a few minute phone call and I stick it into the slot. I exhale a weak breath and I rack my brain for what the apartments number is and I finally remember. With my shaking hands and how to enter the number it took me awhile before I hear the long ringing and I wipe my cheeks that are wet with my tears.

"Hullo?" I hear George's voice on the other side and I breathe a sigh of relief, because I was afraid they wouldn't be home from work yet.

"George, it's me. Can I speak to Paul?" I took a deep breath and tried to sound like I wasn't crying.

"Sure, hold on a second so I can get him for you." he tells me and I rest against the left wall of the telephone box and I notice a phone book next to the phone attached to the wall.

"Hullo?" I next hear Paul's soft, calming voice and I tear my eyes away from the tattered book.

"Paul, it's me Courtney. Could me please come pick me up at the diner?" I ask him while still crying and I use my hand to wipe my tear streamed cheek.

"Yeah of course, I'll be right there," he replies and I hear voices belonging to people who walk the sidewalks and the whiz of cars passing on the crowded street. "What's going on, darling?" he questions in a concerned tone and I sniffle.

"Will you please just come get me?" I reply in my weak voice and I hear rustling on the other line and I think I see a man Robbie's size with the same hair color walking towards me but it's a different guy who just resembles him a little bit.

"Of course, dear. Where are you calling from?" he questions still in that worried tone of voice.

"Some telephone box around the corner from the diner." I answer his question.

"Okay, what's the name of the street, love?" he inquires and I glance up to a street sign some distance away and I read it.

"Victoria Street." I respond and I wonder how much time I have left for the call.

"Alright, I know where that is. Stay there, Court. I'll be there in a few minutes." he tells me and I nod to myself and hang up the phone to rub my eyes and I exhale a sigh.

I soon see Paul's nice car come from around the corner and I wipe my eyes and I leave the lonely telephone box to get into the passenger side of his car and he steps on the gas once I get the seatbelt on.

"Courtney, what happened at the diner?" he questions the minute we're moving and the tears stop.

"Was it Robbie?" he questions and I nod my head up and down and he lets out a sad sigh.

"Did he hurt you?" he questions while taking a turn and I don't feel like speaking so I give him a nod.

He stays silent as so do i while he drives the rest of the way to the flat and when he arrives there we get out of the car to go up the steps and we find the living room and kitchen to be empty.

"Courtney." Paul states and I take my shoes off and he shuts the door and does the same.

I turn around to face him and my lip quivers as I feel more tears coming and he closes the distance between us and encloses me in his snug arms, and I cry.

**AN: So, what did you think of that part? Kind of a surprise, huh? I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. **


	12. Chapter 12

"Sh, it's alright." he speaks to me in a calming voice while his arms embrace me in a hug and I cry into his chest while my hands grip his back.

"You're okay, I'm right here." he continues to try and comfort me while I still sob and I inhale a breath.

I feel him rubbing my back up and down while I shake from crying and I hear the clock in the living room make a loud sound as it signals the new hour.

"Can you tell me what went on? I'm terribly confused why you're so sad and why there's a bleeding cut on your cheek, Court." he speaks and I sigh against his shirt.

"Lets go sit down on the sofa." he suggests and I unbury my face from his now wet shirt and we walk over with his arm around me and me with my hands rubbing my eyes.

We sit by each other and his arm stays around me and I cry into his shoulder while his other hand strokes my hair.

I sigh and move away to rest my arms on my knees and I cover my face with my hands and I feel his hand rub my back.

"Court, what'd Robbie do?" he pries and I sigh.

I get the courage and breath to repeat to him all that happened and he listened patiently as I took my time telling him, and by then the tears had mostly gone. I sit there by him with my head on his shoulder once again and his warm thumbs wipe the idle tears from my cheeks and I lift my eyes to his.

"And you didn't tell Pearl or anybody what happened?" he questions.

"No, I got out of there as fast as I could." I admit.

"Somebody needs to be told, Court. He can't go on thinking how he treated you was okay, and he can't just walk away not getting any punishment for it." Paul states and his fingers leave my cheeks.

"What am I supposed to do, Paul? He probably won't even get punished appropriately, you know how they treat women nowadays." I allude to how in this time male are still superior, but they still in some ways are forty nine years in the future where I'm from.

"You should tell Pearl, or whoever the hell is the manager, or maybe even the person who owns it. I'm sure they won't take it all that lightly that an employee of theirs basically abused another employee. He could go for some degree of assault, Court!" he urges and I'm left with not knowing what to say.

"I don't want to figure it out today, I'm exhausted." I admit and he nods his head with an understanding look.

"When's the next time you work?"

"Not for a few days." I reply after thinking about it for a few seconds.

"Okay, well we'll get it figured out soon, just not today," he comments and my eyes trail away from him. "And it's going to be okay, love. He's not going to touch you again."

"How can you say that? You don't know that." I reply boldly.

"Yes I do, because I'm not going to let him." he remarks with a meaningful look and I just nod and sit back to sink into the couch and he follows me into the kitchen to get something to drink.

I get a glass of juice and stand against the counter drinking it and I set the empty glass in the sink once I'm finished.

"Let me get a washcloth to clean that cut on your cheek. It's not that bad, but still." Paul suggested and he wets a washcloth and gently dabs at it and puts some bacitracin on it.

"Thanks." I reply and he nods.

"Welcome, love."

"I knew he wasn't any good the minute I saw him, you know. I admit I didn't like him from the start." he comments and I cross my arms over my chest.

"Please don't tell me that I told you so, I know I should've been more cautious about him."

"I'm not gonna say it, there's no point to say it." he softly comments.

"But you were right yesterday, because I have never liked him, and I sure as hell don't like him now." he states and I again realize his protectiveness over me showing through his words.

"Yeah you were right about him, I should've listened to you." I add on and I glance to him and I let out a sad sigh, and he sets his drink on the counter to give me another hug.

He gives me a squeeze and I move away to meet his gaze and he runs the tip of his finger barely over my cheek and we form a strong eye contact. I look to his lips and he looks to mine and he moves in and this time we're not interrupted. His lips touch mine in a kiss and I kiss him back, and it only lasts a short second before we both pull away and my eyes fall on his soft face.

"Don't cry, everything is gonna be alright." he says quietly.

"Okay." I reply, trusting his word.

"Why don't you go up to my bed and have a nap? Us lads have to go do something for business anyways, but we'll be back before dinner." he suggests and I nod my head and exit the kitchen leaving him behind as the thoughts in my head are a big mess.

I pull back the covers of his made bed that I made this morning and I get under them to lay down. I stare at the wall with a lost look since that's exactly how I'm feeling. Did we really just kiss? I touch my finger to my lips and I let it drop to rest on the soft bed sheet and I hear voices and footsteps that drown out after multiple seconds. The last sound I hear is the loud bang of the front door shut downstairs and then it's all an empty silence that I sit in. I close my eyes to escape this crazy day and all of these muddled thoughts I'm having.

* * *

I wake up with a start later on, however long i was out, and I look around with my heavy eyes to see a tall figure over by the dresser, but because of the drawn curtains I can only see their silhouette.

"Hey it's just me, love. I'm sorry I woke you, I just had to get something. Dinner won't be done for probably another thirty minutes, so you can go back to sleep, and I'll come to get you when it's ready." Paul comes over to me and says and I nod while looking at his smiling face.

He leaves to close the door behind him and I shift in the bed to pull the covers up more and I let my eyes wander around the dark room. I suddenly remember everything; what happened with Robbie, and the random and totally uncalled for kiss with Paul. Janes face comes to my mind and I sigh, he has a girlfriend. I couldn't fall back asleep with all of the thoughts running through my head, so I went downstairs early to smell cooking from the kitchen and I find a seat on a chair in the living room as Ringo and John sit watching tv, and I join them.

I watch with them some black and white show until Paul comes out into the living saying its ready, and he seems surprised to find me down here, not upstairs sleeping. We had macaroni from the box and a chicken from the market for dinner and I didn't say much or anything. I don't know if Paul told the others what happened with Robbie, but there wasn't any mentioning of it and they didn't act off, so I assumed that Paul kept to himself about it. Paul didn't say hardly a word to me at dinner, or afterwards when we planned to go see a movie at some local theatre.

"Who's all going other than us?" I ask George as we place the last few dishes in the cupboard after washing them.

"Oh, well John's taking Cyn, Ritchie is taking his girlfriend Maureen along, and I was just gonna go to the music store to check out some guitars."

"What about Paul?" I ask since he had forget him.

"Oh, he's bringing Jane." he answers and I simply nod my head and we leave to get ready and meet back downstairs to wait for the car taking us there.

"Hey George, would you mind if I came with you? I'm not much of a movie person." I shyly ask him as we sit in the car and this time I don't sit next to Paul, he found a seat far away from me with the other two on his sides, I wonder why he's acting like this towards me after we kissed earlier.

"Yeah sure, I don't mind." he replies and they get let off at the movie theatre first to meet their girlfriends or for John wife, and Paul looked back at me but didn't say anything.

While they were seeing some film I sat in a chair at the music store while George tried out guitars that he played. I watched in awe as my favorite guitar player of all time played licks and riffs that I wish I could play, and he caught me looking at him. He smiles at me and I gladly return it and I turn to look at the banjos, mandolins, ukuleles, acoustic guitars, electric ones, and dozens of other music things.

"Are you sure you don't like films, Courtney, or is there some other reason you didn't go?" George questions after returning a nice looking and sounding guitar to its stand across the room.

"I just didn't wanna go, I'd be the odd one out." I admit and he nods his head and I go to look at the little kazoos and those fun things over by the counter and I spend the rest of my time there before the car picks us up to go back home.

Jane came over to hang out with Paul of course, and since I didn't want to see them kissing and cuddling on the couch in the living room I followed George up to his bedroom where he's testing out the new guitar he purchased at the store. I admit it's quite a beauty, and I'm happy with my choice to skip out on the awkward fest downstairs where I'm probably not wanted anyways.

"Have you ever played guitar?" George questions as I sit on a wooden chair across from him as he's perched on his neat bed with the prized possession under his fingertips.

"Nope, I've never been talented in that way." I reply and he offers to try and teach me, and as tempting as it was to learn the guitar from George Harrison himself, I declined from the fear I'd embarrass myself.

The company left when it got late and I still felt like Paul was ignoring me, and I would soon find out that I'm right. I found some pajamas in the box of Cyn's old clothes so I changed into those rather than what Paul borrowed me, and I decided to sleep on the couch downstairs after none of the guys, except for Paul, said they didn't have any problem with it. I didn't bother to ask him, or let alone speak to him.

"Why're you sleeping on the couch?" Paul comes down the stairs and asks me as I stand by the couch that I laid a blanket and a pillow on.

"Because you're ignoring me, and so you can have your bed back." I admit and he stops at the last step as he's in his usual pajamas.

"I'm not ignoring you." he objects and I remember how caring and kind he was to me earlier, what a change that is from now.

"Don't lie, it's not a hard thing to figure out." I remark and he takes a step towards me.

"I just want to know why, did I do something?" I plea because I hate that he's mad at me, that my hero and somebody I've become close to would ignore me for some reason I don't know.

**AN: What are your thoughts on this part and what happened in it? Are you liking the direction it's going in? **


	13. Chapter 13

"It was the kiss, wasn't it?" I express my thoughts or theory.

"Courtney-." he begins but I interrupt.

"You're all worried about your girlfriend finding out, am I correct? You probably regret it." I barge in.

"Courtney, you and me, it's just that-." he starts.

"No, don't say it. I've heard it enough times for a lifetime, believe me. I already know what's going to come out your mouth: how I'm just not her, how I don't have a car, or money, a wealthy background and how I'm not popular or hell famous. You know what, Paul? I really thought you wouldn't be like the others who were so concerned about image and what other people thought! Just go back to your actress girlfriend who's so much prettier than me, and richer and more well liked. I don't matter, so why don't we just forget about all of this, and I'll figure out somewhere else to go so we don't have to keep going through this." I remark and he takes another footstep.

"I-I should just leave." I state quietly and I lift my foot to move.

"Why do you keep running away, huh?" he inquires and I turn to sit on the couch.

"Because nobody wants me." I confess and he treads over to take a seat next to me.

"That's not true." he appears to disagree and I lay my arms to rest on my legs and I stare at the floor.

"Pretty much. My parents don't want me, I find a guy with potential and he turns out like all of the others who end up hurting me, and then us." I try to find a way to go about it and I look to his expressionless face.

"Really why have you been ignoring me, Paul?" I again ask him the question he hasn't answered for me.

"You want my answer, huh? Okay here it is," he begins and I take a deep breath in anticipation of hearing it. "Ever since we kissed earlier I've been thinking about it, possibly doubting it too, but most of all I've been trying to convince myself that I don't have feelings for you. That it won't be good if I get involved with you, that you're younger than me, and that we should just stay friends. But I've realized that I haven't gotten anywhere with it. You're all I can think about." he confesses.

"Look at me." he tells me after I had looked away and I do as he says and his hand goes to cradle my cheek.

He quick leans in to press his lips against mine out of nowhere and I'm caught off guard, but I kiss him back, and he pulls away to end the spontaneous peck.

"Our kiss earlier wasn't a mistake or something I regret, and neither was this one." he tells me as our eyes are on each other, and confusion fills my mind.

"But Jane." I object and he runs the tips of his fingers over my cheek lightly.

"We got into another row when I brought her home earlier, and we're both sick of the constant fighting between us, so we decided to see other people." he explains and my eyebrows raise in shock.

"I know, I'm getting used to it myself." he states with a grin and I continue to work at processing at all of this.

"Lets just see where this goes, okay?" he alludes to us and I give him a nod.

"I'm sorry about what I said." I apologize and he exhales a breath.

"It's alright, love. It wasn't right of me, or let alone kind, to ignore you without giving you a reason and also for leading you on." he also apologizes and I nod my head up and down.

He kisses me again and I appreciate the sweet peck.

"Come and sleep with me, this sofa is rock hard." he suggests with a happy tone and he takes my hand to lead me to his room and we both get into his cozy bed.

He pulls the blankets and sheet over us as I lay inside by the wall, and he is on the outside and I open my eyes after shutting them for a second to find his hazels set on me.

"Are ya tired?" he questions as light from the window peers in through the open curtains to illuminate his friendly features.

"No, not really."

"Neither am I." he adds on and I decide to finally tell him about my little secret.

"Paul?"

"Yes, dear?" he responds and I take a deep breath while I almost lose myself in his deep, almost brown eyes.

"You know how the other day you found me sitting on the sidewalk crying and really confused?" I find a way to kind of go about telling him.

"Mmhmm, that story I never got to hear all of." he answers.

"Paul, I'm not from here."

"I know, you're from the U.S." he comments and I shake my head.

"You're not?" he questions with a surprised, and almost hurt look.

"No, I am, but I'm not from this time. I time traveled here." I nervously tell him and he first has a confused look on his face, but then he grins.

"Nice one, Court. You should be a comedian." I realize that he thinks I'm joking, and I sigh.

"Paul, I'm telling the truth." I respond.

"Yeah, sure you are. Time travel isn't real, darling, it can't happen." he replies and I groan.

"I'm not kidding or joking, I really did time travel here!" I exclaim in a serious tone and the amused look fades from his face.

"I'm from 2012, forty nine years in the future. I was born in 1993, and I'm a third generation Beatles fan." I tell him and his brow furrows.

"Who's the prime minister in 2012?" he questions and I remember back to hearing about it in the news and a social studies class of mine from high school.

"David Cameron." I answer his question.

"Who's the president?"

"A Democrat named Barack Obama, who you seem to really like." I reply and he looks even more confused.

"I like him? But I've never even heard of him until now." he replies with a bewildered look.

"Your future self does." I explain and his confused look doesn't fade.

"My future self? What am I like? Did the beatles make it big? Did I get rich and famous around the world?" he asks frantically.

"I can't tell you, I'm sorry." I say softly and I caress his cheek for a second.

"Why not?"

"Because it would mess everything up, and I shouldn't even be here in the first place. I've already changed things. You and Jane weren't supposed to split..." I reply and he puts a finger to my lips.

"No, don't say that," he interrupts my trailing off. "I love you being here, if it isn't obvious, and Jane and I were bound to have it happen anyways." he tells me and a small smile appears on his lips.

His finger leaves my lips and he sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

"Time traveling, huh?" he inquires.

"Yeah, I'm pretty confused myself."

"How?" he asks and I shrug.

"I have no idea, how it happened, how I'm here, or why I'm here." I reply and he combs my long hair off of my shoulder.

"Maybe you're meant to be with me." he voices his opinion and we both smile.

"Maybe." I kind of agree with what he has to say.

"So you believe me?"

"Yeah, as hard as it is to, and even though I don't understand it at all. I believe you." he responds and I grin at him.

The smile leaves my face and he brushes his thumb over my cheek as I look away from him.

"What is it?"

"What if I just magically disappear one day, back to the future where I belong?" I think aloud with a sad look.

"Lets not worry about that right now, I won't let you go anywhere." he responds and he wraps his arms around me and I lay my head on his chest.

"Don't worry about it, darling." he whispers against my hair and I inhale his musky scent and I calm down.

"So people in the next century still listen to The Beatles, huh? We must've made it pretty big then." he states a quiet minute later and I laugh into his chest and he chuckles too.

"Oh just go to sleep, mr. big shot." I tell him and I feel his lips kiss my hair lightly.

"Goodnight to you too, darling." he replies and I relax in his arms.

"Paul, what about the stuff with Robbie?" I interrupt the silent air a few minutes later and he pulls away to look at me.

"Tomorrow's another day, the only thing we need to be worrying about is you and I getting some rest," he begins in a playful tone and then his face becomes hard. "We can sort it all out tomorrow, Court. I promise you something will be done about it, don't you worry."

"Thanks, Paul." I reply and he nods with a smile and I lay my head back down on the soft pillow.

* * *

I get woke up the next morning by Paul moving in the bed and I groan and I hear his muffled laugh in response.

"You jerk, you woke me up." I tease him and I playfully hit his shoulder and I yawn.

"Yeah well you're hogging up the whole bed, Court, and the blankets too."

"Ah I'm sorry," I apologize to him. "but maybe you shouldn't be waking me up early in the morning." I add on after noticing the early time on his clock.

"I'm just kidding love, and just go back to sleep. I don't have to get up and be around for a couple of more hours." he tells me and I close my eyes and nod at his words.

I begin to drift off to sleep next to him as we share warmth in his cramped bed and Robbie's menacing face appears in my mind and I instantly wake up from my not so sleep, and Paul moves next to me.

"Hey, what is it?" he questions with a worried look and I breathe a sigh of relief seeing his face.

"Bad dream about Robbie." I admit and he wraps his arms around me in a hug and I put mine around his middle.

"It's alright, I'm right here, and Robbie is far away from here I'm sure," he rubs my back while saying. "I'm not gonna let anything happen." he reassures me and I nod into his t shirted chest.

I exhale a deep breath and I hear the smoke alarm go off downstairs and Paul chuckles.

"I reckon the lads aren't have a lot of luck cooking something, do you think we should go give 'em a hand?" he states and we decide to go downstairs and we find John and Ringo in a cloud of smoke in the kitchen and I can't help but to laugh at the funny sight of them.

We found out that they tried to make some kind of pancakes, but they weren't paying much attention to them, and they ended up burnt. We helped them clean it all up and then we decided on just toast with jam and peanut butter for our simple breakfast.

"Do you guys have to go to the studio today, or play a show?" I ask as we sit on chairs, or the couch with our empty plates and full bellies after finishing our pieces of toast and I set my plate on the coffee table.

"A show actually, around three o'clock. Wanna come with?" George answers.

"Yeah, if it's okay with all of you. I have to pick up my paycheck at the diner, so I can get a ticket and some food." I reply and I look to Paul who nods at my words.

"Oh, you don't work today?" Ringo questions and I shake my head side to side and Paul and I travel into the kitchen with our dishes.

"I want to come with you when you get your check, you know." Paul announces and I set the dish in the sink after rinsing it quickly.

"Alright." I reply and he winks at me with a small smile before going over to the open jam jar and peanut butter one too who somebody left out, and he screws the tops back to return them to their spots in the fridge and the pantry.

Paul and I both shower before getting dressed and he drives us to the diner as its nearing late morning, and he follows after me into the diner. Lets hope Robbie isn't here, or that I don't see anything of him. From what Paul has had to say about him, I'm scared about what he would say or more importantly do to the creep if we ran into him.


	14. Chapter 14

I look around thinking I'll see Robbie lingering at the counter or at a booth chatting it up with a friend, but I luckily don't see him. I stop right in front of the counter where no employee is seen and Paul stands by my side a little more closer than somebody who's just a friend of mine. I've noticed ever since I've came to know Paul how protective he is over me. I sight Pearl's elaborate hairdo around the corner as she sets a plate of food in front of a customer, and she turns around and walks up to us.

"Hello, loves." she greets us two.

"Hi, Pearl. I came to pick up my check." I state and she goes around us to get behind the counter.

"Oh yes, just give me a second to find it." she responds and she bends down to look on a shelf where I know a basket of files sits.

"Here you are." she says and she hands me the sealed, white envelope.

I thank her and I turn to leave, but Paul places his hand gently on my arm to stop me and I look to him, and his eyes flit to Pearl who stands there waiting for us to say or do something. My brow falls and I watch as his mouth opens.

"Uh I'm wondering who the manager is here." Paul states and I cross my arms over my chest.

"That's me, and i also own this diner, why are you wondering, son?" Pearl replies and I see a flash of short, light brown hair back in the kitchen, and I catch a glimpse of Robbie back there too.

I tear my eyes away to look at Paul and his hand falls from it's place my arm and he stuffs his hands in his pants pockets.

"Just curious, thanks." Paul replies and I turn on my heel to exit and Paul follows a step back.

"Court, she needs to know!" he exclaims the minute the glass door shuts and I spot a few teenage girls on the corner of the sidewalk a short distance away who squeal at the sight of Paul.

"And how do you think we do that? He's there right now, Paul. I saw him back in the kitchen." I reply and he sighs and scratches his chin and then turns to face the small group of girls who shyly stand behind us with their autograph books in hand.

Paul looks to me with an apologetic look and I nod slowly and I lean against the light pole while Paul is surrounded by the young girls who blush at seeing him. I notice the smile that breaks onto his face, what a happy one it is, while one of the girls said something flattering to him. He signs the last of the books and says goodbye to them and they turn their backs on him and cross the walk with the biggest smiles on their naive faces. He comes over to me and takes my hands to hold and he raises his eyebrows with a smile.

"Aren't you gonna smile?" he questions and I shake my head with a stern look.

"Oh, well I can get you to smile, wanna bet?" he replies and I shake my head and he keeps staring at me until I break with a smile and he grins.

"I knew it." he declares and I laugh and I watch as his smile fades.

"Lets go get it over with, okay?"

"Paul, can we just do it another time, please?" I ask him in a soft tone.

"Why don't you want to just do it now?"

"I just don't." I reply with a bad answer, but he nods and pulls me away from the pole over to him and we start walking back to his car and I sight Robbie taking out the trash out back and Paul follows my eyes to him.

We don't stop walking, but they had a bit of a stare down and I touch his arm and he turns back to me and we get to the car to drive back home. We're silent on the short car ride and we find the other three to be in their rooms doing whatever when we get there.

"We need to do it soon, you know. It wasn't anywhere near okay how he treated you, and he needs to know that." Paul states as he sits down on the couch with a cup of tea while I lay on the other end with my knees bent allowing him room to sit.

"I know that, Paul. I just don't want to do it right now or today, okay?" I reply with a harsh tone that I didn't mean to use and I meet his soft eyes.

"Yeah, okay." he agrees in a quiet tone and I smile at him.

"I'm sorry for being crabby, I-." I begin to apologize and I sit up and he cuts me off.

"It's alright, love. I shouldn't be nagging you about it, so I'm sorry." he says he's sorry too.

"It's okay." I let him know and he smiles and I relax into the couch and I shut my eyes.

"Court, what were you doing before you know came here?" Paul inquires and I open my eyes to see him drinking from his cup of tea and he sets it back down on the coffee table.

"Uh listening to a song." I reply after remembering how I had purchased a new song off ITunes that I was excited to listen to.

"Alright, well do you think that's was caused you to travel here?" he questions and I shrug.

"Did you eat or drink anything shortly before?"

"What, you mean like Rip Van Winkle?" I reply a bit sarcastically and he shrugs.

"Nah, not that bloke. I'm just thinking about how you got here, like if something triggered it," he replies and I lift my feet to rest on the edge of the coffee table. "Did you happen to speak to anybody a few minutes before or anything?" he adds on and I think.

"I talked to one of my professors for a class of mine, but that was like twenty minutes before I sat down on the sidewalk to rest." I reply and he purses his lips while seemingly thinking.

"Has this professor of yours got it in for you, or not like you?" he questions and I laugh.

"He's given me a few bad grades before, but he's not some wizard or whoever that would do this to me. It's not magic, Paul." I reply and I turn to face him and he does the same.

"Then what happened?" he inquires and I shrug my shoulders at his question.

"I don't know what happened, I wish I did."

He nods simply and I sigh and all of those myths and ancient stories about time travel run through my head.

"Did you believe in it before I came here?" I give up with the closing my eyes and I see his light brown pair sitting on me.

"No, I always thought it was just some wacky thing that only happened in books." he answers my question.

"I didn't believe in it either, it was the last thing on my mind at the time, that's for sure," I share my opinion and I hear the clock's loud noise and I see it to be quarter to 11. "I'll have to go back, won't I?" I think aloud.

"I dunno, Court. I'm still trying to process this new information about you being from the future, and somehow being here. I really have no idea, darling," he responds and I exhale a sad sigh. "But yeah, maybe you will have to go back, or maybe you never will go back. I'm not sure." he continues on and I pick at my nails with a discouraged look and he takes my hand in his.

"I don't want to leave, Paul. There's nothing there in the future for me. My parents don't want me, and the few friends I had stopped calling me or wanting to spend time together, they just forgot about me," I speak with a weak voice and his eyes are glued on me while I speak. "But here I'm for the most part happy, and I love getting to spend time with you, and getting to know you and the others." I finish and he drops my hand to pull me into his arms and I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder while my arms go around his neck.

"Hey, it's alright. I know you don't like your life back home, and you're welcome to stay here as long as you like, you know that. I don't want you to leave either, Courtney, but I don't think we need to worry about you leaving quite yet. You've been here for almost four days, so I think we have more time together. I dunno how much, but I'm going to use my moments with you wisely," he attempts to console me with a hug and we both pull away and he runs a finger over my cheekbone. "Don't be sad, alright? Be happy, so I can see that smile of yours again." he ends and of course I smile when I witness his beautiful smile and he gives me a sweet kiss.

I smile and he winks at me and I blush while we look into the others eyes.

"Paul, do you think this, us, is right?" I question and the smiles disappears from his lips.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"I guess because we haven't been known each other even a week, and I'm two years younger than you." I say and he moves away with a displeased look.

"What, are you changing your mind now?" he retorts while not meeting my eyes and I move towards him and I move so my face is in front of his.

"No, I'm not, promise." I tell him and the hard look on his face relaxes to fade completely.

"Yeah, I know that we really only just met, but I feel like we already know a lot about each other, and I want to get know more about you," he adds on to this topic we speak of and I pay attention to what he has to say. "I know that you make me smile, that I'd rather use my free time to be with you rather than talking about models and that stuff with the lads, and I know that when we kiss it feels right, simple as that. Another thing that I know is that you make me happy, and that's all I need to know that this is right." he replies with thoughtful words that I'd never expect to hear a man utter to me and about me, and a smile comes onto my lips at hearing him say such sweet things and I cup his cheek and close the space between us to kiss him.

I pull away and I see that smile on his lips again and I smile back at him.

"It feels right for me too, I just wanted to ask." I admit and my hand drops from his round cheek.

"Alright, love." he responds and I return to my usual posture next to him on the couch.

I reach over to him to tickle his side and he easily squirms.

"Courtney, don't." he responds and I chuckle.

"Sorry, it's so tempting." I reply with a sly grin and he moves away from me on the couch and keeps an eye on me while I smile.

"Well don't do it anymore, alright?" he remarks and I nod my head with a smirk.

I tickle him again and he pushes my hand away as I laugh and he gets up from the couch and takes his tea with him.

"No, don't leave." I whine as he stands with his white cup of tea and I frown with sad eyes.

"Will you stop tickling me?" he questions.

"Yes."

"And will you keep your word this time?" he asks and I reply with the same answer and he sits by me and drapes his arm around my shoulder and he sips at his brown tea.

"What do you reckon we should do until we have to leave for that show we have at three?" Paul inquires while I play with my bracelets on my wrist and I glance up at his patient eyes.

"You know what, I have something for you. Just wait here a second." he speaks before I can answer him, and his arm leaves me and he sets his tea on the small plate to go up the stairs and he returns with a small box that he sets in my hand.

"I've noticed how I've found you a few times fiddling with those bracelets on your arm, and I saw these at a shop, and your face came to my mind." he explains and I remove the red top to find two bracelets and I smile at the sight is them.

"Paul, this is so nice of you, and they're so pretty." I comment with a thankful smile and I pick up one of the unique bracelets.

I continue to grin while I notice the pattern of green, red and white thread that is braided together in a way i don't recognize and I pick up the other that is a mixture of blues.

"Well I thought they'd fit you, since you know, you're a pretty lass." he comments and my eyes flit back to him and he grins and he takes them from my hands to tie them securely on my left wrist where one of my already tattered bracelets already is.

Paul flashes me a smile when I meet his eyes after he puts them on my wrists and I smile back at him, I think I've found myself a keeper here.

** AN: Thoughts?**


	15. Chapter 15

I smile and glance to Paul who opens his mouth to speak, I'm still having trouble believing he's young, real and that we're kind of but not really together.

"Oh, I just remembered I have to go get me hair cut. Do you wanna tag along with me, love?" he says.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe I'll get one myself too." I reply and he nods his head and we leave the couch to get on our shoes and pile into his car and we drive to the barber shop that he tells me him and the other three always go to and I notice a few other men getting a new hairdo.

"Said I have to wait a little longer until a hairdresser frees up, you wanna look at this book with hairstyles in it?" Paul walks back from the desk where he spoke with an employee.

"Yeah." I reply and he picks up a black and white book from the table on his left and he flips it open, hairstyles back in this time sure are different.

"Hmm, maybe I should get my hair cut too." I think aloud and Paul turns the page.

"No no no, I don't think you should. The long, red hair you have is pretty and I think you should keep it that way." he seems to disagree and I flash him a thankful smile when I meet his eyes.

"Yeah, maybe I'll just get a trim then." I decide and we look through that book and he reads some of the paper before his turn comes and he walks off to get his hair tended to, to say.

I reached over Paul's vacant chair against the walk to retrieve a local magazine that talks about music with the Beatles on the cover and while skimming through the beginning pages I hear the door open. I look up to see Pearl enter in her casual clothing, what a difference it is to not see her in her diner attire. She walks up to the desk with her purse on her hip and speaks with somebody quickly before turning around and her eyes fall on me.

"Well if it isn't Courtney? It's nice to see you again today, love. How are you?" she questions as she approaches me and she takes a seat next to me and I mark the magazine page with my finger.

"I'm pretty good, how about you?" I reply and I look behind her to Paul who sits in a chair with a black curtain draped over him and his eyes catch me and he flashes me a smile.

"I'm doing just fine, thanks. Are you here to get a new do as well, love?" she questions.

"Yeah, kind of. I'm waiting for my uh friend to be finished with his first." I answer and she looks back to Paul who speaks with the person cutting his hair.

"Ah, that young fella, one of the Beatles. Them lads are nice alright, and their voices are just like butter, I reckon. I remember seeing you in the diner with him the other day, before you came to work there. You and him seemed like two peas in a pod: talking so comfortably, laughing and then having that pen war." she comments with a pleased smile and she chuckles, oh Paul.

"Yeah, he's quite the guy, alright." I respond with a smile.

"How about you, are you in for a shampoo or perm?" I ask her the same question and she turns her body.

"Oh yes. I can't keep this mane tamed all by myself, you know. I come in here off and on, they do wonders." she replies and she finds a magazine on the table to occupy her time with, and I look back to the page I'm on with the Beatles, and I look to Paul's smiling face.

I remember how he kept on telling me that Pearl needs to know about what happened with Robbie, and even though I shudder at the memory, I agree with him in my mind. I close the magazine and turn to face her and I open my mouth to reveal to her what went on. I got up the courage to tell Pearl then and there in our seats next to each other in the barber shop the whole story about what happened with Robbie yesterday. Her eyes were on me the whole time, and I was afraid she wouldn't believe me.

She didn't say anything at first after I had just finished, but she nodded and glanced to her lap and folded her hands. She told me that it would be taken care of, and she thanked me for telling her, and then she went off to get her hair cut. I breathed a sigh of relief after getting that off my chest, and Paul just happened to have finished getting his hair done and he paid at the desk.

"Hey, Court. What did you and Pearl chat about?" Paul questions when he sits back in his seat with his shorter hair that just got blow dried I notice.

"I uh told her about what happened yesterday at the diner." I reply slowly and his black eyebrows raise.

"Oh really, what did she have to say about it?" he asks and he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"She thanked me for telling her, and she said she'd have it taken care of." I answer him and he nods when I look to him.

"That's good, hopefully something will be worked out before your next shift in a couple of days." he comments and I nod my head up and down in agreement.

The hairdresser calls me over and Paul flashes me a smile as I walk over and sit in the chair that he adjusts to rise more and I watch as I see more of myself in the mirror above the sink.

"Alright love, is there a certain style you're going for? Or perhaps do you just want a little off?" the kind barber asks and I look at my hair in the mirror no longer in my braid.

"Could I just get a few inches taken off?" I question and he nods to himself.

"Certainly." he answers and I glance to Paul who patiently sits in the chair several feet away from me with his one foot propped up on his knee while his eyes are glued to a section of the paper he reads.

The hairdresser asks if I want my hair washed and since it's hardly any more than a regular cut I agreed with that, and he went to shampoo my hair and then take off a couple of inches, then he blow dried it.

"Well, what do you think?" he spins my chair around to have me look in the mirror and I smile at my appearance, I hardly look different.

"I love it, thank you."

"Of course, miss." he comments and I run my hands through my shorter hair that is still fairly long, he only took off a little bit that isn't even really noticeable.

I follow him to the desk where I pay with my new check and he gave me the large remainder of it and I turn to see Paul and his eyes lift to me.

"You look fantastic!" he comments with a smile and I grin.

"Thanks, you look pretty great yourself." I reply and he still smiles and he sets the paper on the table and we leave the shop to encounter the London sidewalks and other citizens who walk along them.

We reach his car to get into it and he puts on his blinker and merges into the busy lane. I flick my still long hair over my shoulder and I notice a few young kids and an older looking teenager walking on the sidewalk with their beagle and I remember my dog back home.

"Paul, do you like animals?" I ask a question I already know the answer to, but that kind of slipped my mind.

"Yeah, I love 'em. How about you?"

"Yeah, I love animals too." I reply and we make a turn and the kids and their dog leave my sight.

"Do you have any pets back home, Court?" Paul questions.

"Yeah I do. He's a golden retriever named Bailey." I answer with a smile as I remember my lovable dog back home who I miss dearly.

"Aw, he sounds like a sweet dog. Is he your mums or your dads?" he questions with a fond smile on his lips.

"My dads." I respond and he takes one last turn before we end up in front of the flat and he parks and we walk in.

"Ah, I bet you miss him."

"I do." I comment as we enter the vacant kitchen and I pick up today's paper that somebody must of picked up and I flip to the recreation section where a list of activities and fun classes are in columns.

I sit up on the counter while Paul digs in the fridge for something or other while I read through these few columns. Paul closes the fridge and comes to stand by me and he sets down two Cokes by me and opens them both. He hands me one with a smile and I accept it with a thankful grin and we both take a swig from our own bottle.

"Have you ever done any of these classes at this recreational center?" I ask him after setting my drink down on the counter and he gets up on the counter and he looks over my shoulder at what I'm reading.

"Nah, I never have. Why do you ask?" he inquires and I lift my eyes to meet his while he drinks from his Coke.

"I think they sound fun, especially this pottery one. Have you ever done pottery?" I reply and he sets his drink on the counter and I hand him the paper that he skims over with his eyes.

"Pottery? No, I've never touched clay, except for maybe in like primary school," he answers and I spot the listing for a pottery class that's soon. "What about you, have you ever thrown pots or sculpted any masterpieces?" he finishes with a friendly smile.

"Yeah, I took a few pottery classes at my high school and the college. It's really fun actually making bowls and mugs out of clay. I didn't make any real masterpieces, but i loved going to those classes." I reply and he looks to me with a smile on his face.

"I can see why you want to be an art teacher, you seem pretty artsy." he comments and I shrug with a smile.

"Do you think we could maybe go to this pottery class? There's hand building and the wheels, so we both could be doing something." I ask a bit nervously and he purses his lips while seemingly thinking.

"Yeah sure, I always like to try new things. Just don't be teasing me when the bowl or whatever I make turns out horribly and yours is beautiful." he remarks and I grin at his playful words.

"We'll just have to see, maybe we'll both make something spectacular." I state and he shrugs his shoulders.

"Lets hope so." he responds and he drapes his arm around me and he folds the paper in half to focus on the little box about the pottery class.

"It says it's a two day long class; tomorrow afternoon at two o'clock and two days from now at the same time. It seems like a reasonable price for a two shot class, I think we should go," he reads aloud and then adds on to it and he looks to me. "You come up with great ideas, you know." he ends the sentence and he kisses my cheek, I still can't fully wrap it around my head that this is happening with him, and that I'm here. It was something I dreamt about, I never thought it could come true.


	16. Chapter 16

"You know, I still don't know a whole lot about you, Court. How about we tell the other more about ourselves?" Paul suggests and I nod while he places the paper over on the counter and he grabs his Coke to drink from.

"Like what?" I question and he shrugs with an unsure look.

"Were you ever in any sports?" he questions and I nod.

"Softball and Volleyball." I reply and he looks confused, but then realization comes over his face and he nods to himself, he's so corky and funny.

"Did you ever do choir or orchestra?" he inquires and I shake my head.

"Nope, I can't even hold a note and I'm doomed with instruments." I reply with a slightly embarrassed look as I tell this to somebody who's the complete opposite of how I describe myself.

"Ah come on, I bet that's not true." he disagrees and I shake my head with a smirk and look to the kitchen floor for a split second.

"No, it's completely true." I reassure him and I take a swig from my Coke.

He kept on asking me more things about myself and I participated too asking him questions that he gladly answered for me, and before I knew it we were laughing about something or other. We were completely in stitches, close to crying, and my head found a place on his shoulder and the ecstatic smiles on our faces fell to allow for serious looks as we look into the others glimmering eyes. His hand moved to my chin where he lifted my face to his and our lips met in a kiss that wasn't just some peck as it lasted longer than that, and it had more meaning than that. We parted after a long moment that felt longer than it probably was and we share smiles and his hand drops from my raised chin and the front door opens.

I hear an abundance of voices pile in along with laughs and ruffling of clothes and shoes thudding to the floor as they're being taken off.

"Oh hey there, Macca." John walks into the kitchen with the simple greeting and he goes for the fridge.

Paul excused himself to use the bathroom while John raided the fridge and the other two occupied the living room. I hopped off of the hard counter to venture up the stairs into Paul's empty bedroom and I quickly brush my hair that I'm adjusting to and I toss on a sweater that was one of Cynthia's old ones since its getting a bit cold. I let out a breath with a pleased smile on my face as I exit his bedroom and make my way to the staircase. I stop to look over the arrangement of a few photos on the plain walls and the loud knocking against the wooden door travels up the steps where I am.

"Paul, somebody's at the door for you!" John calls out after answering the knocking.

"Hey, where's Court, and who's at the door?" I hardly hear Paul's response after some shuffling of footsteps.

"I dunno, mate. It's Jane, by the way, she said that it's important she speak to you." John replies and my brow falls slightly as my eyes are set on a well drawn picture of Paul from the Hamburg days and after a minute I recognize Klaus Voorman's signature at the bottom in his scrawling.

"Jane, hi." Paul's soft voice floats up the steps while I stand close to the railing, but not in anybody's view.

"Jane, I dunno," Paul utters after I hear an inaudible female voice. "I thought you had your mind made up, and I just can't change mine all of a sudden because you've changed yours!" he exclaims in a tense voice and my eyes leave the photos and I walk closer to the staircase, but I don't think it's safe for me to go down there right now.

I again hear Jane's shy voice that I can't make out as I lean against the hallway wall and I bite on my nail, I wonder what's going on. Is it good or bad? Boy was I about to find out.

"I just can't go back to you, Jane. I'm kind of with somebody else now." Paul states and I exhale a breath.

"You're already with somebody after one day?" her voice rises and I glance to the floor. "She's that American staying with you, whatever her bloody name is, am I right?" she finishes her sentence and I consider walking back to Paul's room so I won't have to her this, but my feet won't move. Once again I'm not feeling so welcome here, I hate this feeling.

"And so what if I am with her? What problem do you have with her?" he retorts.

"Paul, you haven't even known her a week!" Jane replies and I sigh and turn to stand against the wall with my back to it.

I lift my feet and walk back into Paul's room where I sit on his bed not wanting to hear any more of that conversation and the bang of the door shutting is what I hear soon after I took my place on his bed. I let out a sigh and pick at my fingernails and then I look to the two gorgeous bracelets Paul got for me, and I smile at the sight of them. The silence that's flooded my ears is interrupted my footsteps gaining on the staircase and Paul's not even fully shut door opens and he himself just stands there in the doorway with a blank expression on his face.

"Hey, love. What're you doing up here?" he questions in a cheery tone that I know he's faking.

I ignore his casual question as I stare at my nails and he sighs and comes over to me to sit next to me at the end of his bed and he attempts to drape his arm over me. I shrug his arm off and I move farther away from him.

"What was that for?" he questions in a tone far from happy and I lift my eyes to meet his pair.

"So... about you and Jane, are you back together?" I question and i watch as he registers what I said and his facial expression changes.

"Courtney-." he starts but I don't allow him to finish.

"What's going on, Paul?" I question in a fed up tone and he exhales a breath.

"I reckon you must of heard what went on, that's not hard to figure out. She came by to ask to get back together with me, and before you say anything more I'll tell you how it ended: I told her that I don't want to get back together with her, because I'm with you." he confesses and his eyes trail to me as he speaks the last sentence.

I don't really know what to say in return to him. "Thank you." I reply with a genuine smile and he nods with a new grin and he moves over to me and i let him wrap his arm around me.

"I didn't see any point in going back to her anyways, because I knew the fighting would return and I just didn't enjoy being in the relationship." he states in quiet voice while my head lays on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, you don't need to be, darling. It's not your fault." he replies and we pull away from the short hug for him to give me a peck.

I smile at him which he returns and he takes my hand and I glance to our l joined hands.

"I think lunch is sounding pretty good to me right about now, how about you, love?" he questions and I nod my head.

"Yeah, me too." I agree and we stand up and we walk back downstairs and into the empty kitchen and he lets go of my hand to search in the fridge for something while I retreat to the counter to sip at my Coke.

"How does macaroni and cheese sound to you?" he suggests and I smile, it's my favorite.

"That sounds great, want help making it?" I reply.

"Sure." he answers and so I leap off the counter to my feet to aid him.

He grabbed the box of elbow macaroni from the pantry to get that boiling on the stove while I found the block of cheese in the fridge and I started to grate it. I stopped when Paul told me I had plenty enough in order for it to be some cheesy macaroni, so I got the cold stick of butter from the fridge to cut a few cubes and then I got the milk too.

"Alright, I think these are done." Paul announces as he strains the boiled pasta and he tosses all of it back into the pan and he adds the butter.

I slowly add the cheese and the butter while he stirs and then I add not a whole lot of milk. He added the seasonings while I got out bowls and drinking glasses for us to fill with milk.

"So.. you said that you like to do art and that you have taken classes in high school and stuff, do you ever draw people then?" Paul questions as he spoons the cheesy, delicious looking macaroni into our two bowls while I drink from my Coke that's beginning to run low.

"No, I've never been good at portraits or anything like that, but I've always liked painting, pottery and photography especially." I reply and he sets the pan on a cooled burner and we take our bowls of food to go sit at the kitchen table together.

"Oh really? Us lads love to take pictures. We should get you a camera one of these times when we go to town." he suggests and I smile at the idea while I stir my hot food.

"Yeah, I'd really like to do that." I comment and he flashes me a smile before starting on his food.

We chat more about music, art, food and their concert coming up in short of two hours while we filled our stomachs with the gooey macaroni that definitely hit the spot. We washed the dishes we dirtied afterwards and then we lounged on the couch watching some tv show before another car came to pick all of us up.

Once again when we arrived they headed to their dressing room backstage right away while I went to find the concessions where I bought some licorice and a Pepsi for the concert, after purchasing my ticket of course. I wandered around the fairly small theatre, ballroom or whatever this place technically is while I sipped at my Pepsi and glanced to the posters on the walls about this concert, other ones, upcoming musicals and that kind of thing. I went back into the auditorium part to hear them rehearse and then I found my okay seat and i got to see the Beatles in concert for the second time. It was just as great as the first time.

Like last time I waited around for the four to finish changing and doing whatever in their dressing room as I continue to nurse my Pepsi as I sit on a bench in the front entrance. I sigh and glance to the dark doors that not even ten minutes ago had dozens of girls and some adults pushing through them to leave the finished concert. I hear the opening of doors along with a cluster of footsteps as well as faded laughter and Paul comes to get me and we pile into the car to return home for our early dinner of pizza and then we went on to play some board games, I'm having such a great time in this time with the four of them.

**AN: I hope you're liking these parts, I'd love to hear what you think of them!**


	17. Chapter 17

Later that night after we filled up on pizza, Coke and chips I lay in Paul's small bed and he lays on the floor once again in the sleeping bag because of limited space in his bed.

"Goodnight, Court." Paul bids after he made noise moving around in the mass of blankets he lays in and I rest my head on the pillow.

"Night, Paul." I reply and I turn over and I exhale a sigh before relaxing in the bed and I find sleep soon, but it wasn't anything near comfortable.

* * *

The next time my eyes open I'm still in bed, but when I sit up to look at my surroundings I realize I'm in my bedroom back home, no longer in London with the Beatles, in 1963. I jump out of bed and open my door to dash down the winding case of stairs that lead into the living room and I see the tv to be on, but the room is empty as is the amount of sense this is making to me. I travel into the kitchen while my heart continues to beat rapidly and I walk out the back door to find my large backyard covered with autumn leaves that still fall from the trees. I let out a shaky sigh as I feel tears welling in my eyes and I go back inside to find my way back upstairs where I go down the hall and I pass my mothers bedroom where the door is hardly open and I see her sleeping body passed out drunk on the brown, king bed. The one that used to be my parents, not just hers, but that was before they got divorced and when things kept came crashing down in my life. By now the tears are running down my cheeks and I go down to my bedroom to enter it and I look at the calendar on my wall that reads September 20th 2012, the day I traveled back in time to meet Paul and John and the others. But how can this be happening? I remember everything that happened; running into Paul for the first time, telling him about a lot of my life, that nightmare with Robbie, the kisses with Paul, the concerts. When I look to my wrists the bracelets Paul had given me are no longer there, and my hair is long as ever, as if those few inches had never been taken off. I tread over to my bed with my tear blurred vision and I sit on it to cover my face with my hands as I try to process this, whatever it is.

I awake suddenly and I sit up straight and I feel the tears on my cheeks, and as well as that feeling I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to face even more confusion.

"Court, are you okay?" Paul questions as he sits on the edge of my bed in his pajamas as its still dark out the window. "I woke up to hearing you crying and muttering things in your sleep, what's wrong, darling?" he finishes the sentence and he brushes his thumb over my cheek to wipe my tear.

I toss my arms around his ever so real middle and I breathe a sigh of relief against his chest that smells faintly of his cologne and fabric softener. His arms go around me and his cheek falls to rest on my head and I close my eyes while his fingers stroke my hair.

"Sh, you're alright. Whatever is wrong you're okay." he speaks and I realize it must of been some livid dream, what a livid one it at that.

"Did you have a nightmare?" he inquires and I nod into his chest.

"I dreamt I was back home and that none of this had ever happened even though I remembered it, and I was so freaked out." I confess against his soft shirt on his chest and he lightly rubs my arm.

"Ah, well it's not real, Court. It was just a dream that you unfortunately had. You're here, not there, love." he replies and I take in a deep breath as he holds me in his arms.

"I think it's two in the morning, dear. We should be getting back to bed, are you gonna be alright?" he states and I shake my head honestly.

"I know it's squished in this bed with two people, but I'll sleep with you if that'll make you feel better." he suggests and I look up at him.

"Yeah, thanks." I answer him and he nods and kisses my forehead and we both get under the messy covers and I tried not to be all that close to him in fear it'd be awkward just like this relationship is currently, but the bed isn't that big so we were close to being in the others arms, he didn't seem to mind. I admit I didn't either, but I couldn't fall back asleep for another two hours, afraid that when I'd fall back asleep that somehow the same dream would reoccur and be true.

* * *

The next time I wake up I'm relieved to find myself laying next to Paul as his hazel eyes are set on me with sleep pulling at the corners of them, and he blinks hard to try and wake up. I smile at him and he returns it and tucks a lock of my hair behind in my ear. I sigh and glance to the clock across the room thats time is nearing nine thirty, and I turn back to Paul who looks like he doesn't want to get out bed.

"Morning." he greets me and I yawn and I laugh which he joins me in.

"Good morning to you too." I reply and he stretches his arms towards the window somewhat behind his bed and I close my eyes.

"Did ya sleep good?" he questions and I shrug my shoulders in answer.

"Did you?" I ask him the same thing.

"Yeah, I suppose." he responds and I hear his big yawn.

"What are your plans for today?" I question as my eyes stay shut and I move my limbs to stretch a bit.

"Mm, we have to go into the studio pretty soon and we won't be done until probably five, but with breaks throughout. Do you wanna come along?" he questions and I suddenly remember their rule about no girls or hardly anybody in the studio with them.

"No thanks." I reply and I open my eyes to face his confused pair.

"Why not?" he questions with a look that reads almost hurt.

"I don't want to step in on anything." I reply and the look fades from his flawless features.

"Well what're you going to do all day home alone? I don't think leaving you here by yourself is all that good of an idea." he states.

"What, you don't trust me? Have a little faith in me now." I reply with a smile playing on my lips and he grins slightly.

He moves over to cradle my cheek and his lips meet mine in a whisper of a kiss that was still as meaningful and wonderful as a long one, and he pulls away to refocus on my eyes.

"I do trust you, and love, it's not that I don't have faith in you, because I do. I'd just honestly feel better if you came along to the studios." he remarks seriously and I nod my head, I've always wanted to check out Abbey Road Studios.

"Good, it'll be fun if you come along." Paul comments while he stretches his arms above his head again and we decide to get out of bed to have breakfast and for us all to get ready to leave around quarter after ten.

I had just finished getting ready in the bathroom and was on my way to the kitchen to have something to drink when I heard a knock at the door, and nobody else came to answer it so I did. I was surprised to find Robbie standing on the doorstep with his hands hidden in his leather jacket pockets and I can't muster any words to leave my mouth.

"Court, who is it?" Paul calls from the kitchen table and I don't answer so he gets up to walk over to me.

I see Paul's eyes fall on him and an angered look washes over his face.

"I came to apologize for what happened the other day at the diner. I had gotten drunk the night before and I still wasn't thinking all too right. I'm sorry, Courtney." Robbie is the first one to speak and I peek at Paul to see him standing pretty close to me.

"Court, close the door." Paul just about orders in a low voice and I shake my head.

"Yeah, thanks, Robbie." I reply uneasily and Paul looks to me with a confused and maybe mad look.

"You're welcome, Courtney." Robbie replies and I see Paul roll his eyes not so secretly next to me.

Paul slams the door and walks back into the kitchen without saying a word and I follow him.

"What was that about?" I question and he turns on his heel to face me.

"You're honestly going to accept his apology?" he questions and I shrug.

"Well what else am I supposed to do? We might still work together, Paul." I answer him and he huffs.

"He hurt you, and hell I don't believe his sap story for one minute about having some hangover that day, or let alone his apology. He's not safe, you know."

"I know that, but it's not like i'm forgiving him right away. What's the big deal?" I inquire and he goes back over to the table to grab his dirty plate and he brings it over to the sink.

"Just forget it." he retorts.

"No, please tell me." I reply and before he can answer or for me to add on anymore to the topic of discussion John interrupts us to tell us it's time to leave, and so we leave it at that.

Paul and I didn't speak to each other on the ride over to the studios after us having that little spat or whatever the appropiate word for it would be. I sensed a tense almost atmosphere between us while he stared out the window, occasionally biting his nails. Once we arrived there at the iconic Abbey Road recording studios that's hardly a corner away from the famous crosswalk where the well known cover of their album named after the studios would happen in six years. They gave small waves and casual greetings to people we passed on the way to the certain studio where who i recognize to be George Martin sits patiently in the control room. I got introduced to him briefly before tagging along with them down the long staircase. I wandered a bit as they chatted amongst themselves while fiddling with their instruments, and i found a chair to sit in away from their tight circle.

"Hey there." Paul states as he stands in front of me with his brown bass strapped over his shoulder.

"Hi." I reply quietly after raising my eyes from my floral shirt to meet his eyes.

He drags a chair over to me to sit and a short silence falls over us.

"I'm sorry about earlier. The thing is that i wasn't happy about Robbie showing up, and frankly i didn't see an ounce of truth in his words." Paul apologizes while i listen to his soft voice.

"It's okay, I'm sorry too." I apologize to him and he nods his head.

"It's okay, love. I just don't want Robbie hurting you again, you know." he comments.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't want that either." I agree with him and he shoots me a smile that I return and he stands up to lean over and kiss my cheek which I grin at and he winks at me before walking back over to his mates.

I sigh and glance around the room that's plentiful of space, and i look to the brown piano, Ringo's drum set and John's acoustic that he holds. I'm really about to watch the Beatles record, basically i'm getting a little private concert. I'm just living the life, so to say, huh? I wonder how long this will last, i surely can't stay stuck here in a time i don't in one bit belong in, or can i?

**AN: I'd love to hear your thoughts on this part! I'm not sure when my next part for this fic will be, I hope you'll stay patient with me and that you understand.**


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Hey, guys, this story is back! Kind of. I'm sorry that it's been so long since I last updated with a chapter. Anyways, here's a new chapter that I hope you like and that you won't find boring! Hopefully I'll be updating this story pretty often in the coming weeks, but I'm not too positive that I will be. Leave a review if you want, I'd love to read it and what you think of this chapter! **

Words can't describe or explain how simply amazing it was to watch my favorite band rehearse songs and record a few right in front of me, and to see them in their natural element. I saw how Paul is such a perfectionist wanting everything just right and how he could butt heads with John who isn't all that into details, and how all four of them are really so dedicated to produce a fantastic sounding song that they would be proud of. After the few breaks and when they finished work for the day we left to pile back into the car and I got a seat by Paul as they all spoke about some place in town they heard about from a friend.

I was looking at the two bracelets Paul had gotten me and how pretty they are with the intertwining colored strands as the others chatted amongst themselves.

"Hey, is something wrong? You've been mighty quiet today." Paul states and my eyes leave the bracelet to meet his hazel pair.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm fine." I reply and he nods his raven haired head slowly still with that off, confused look from before.

"Are you sure?" he questions and I nod my head 'yes' and the look fades, but I feel like that for some reason he isn't convinced.

He returns to the conversation going on between the other three and we soon arrive at this rollerblading place and we enter to find it completely deserted, and we're immediately serviced.

The rollerblading rink was simply a blast with a few of us falling on our butts, sure that our butts will be bruised tomorrow from hitting the hardwood floor so many times and that we're in need for a bath to get rid of the sweat. It was some of the most fun I've had in quite a long time with the laughing, the joking and holding hands with Paul as we rollerbladed around the wooden rink. He insisted because we both kept on tripping and falling over our feet.

* * *

"Hey, time to wake up!" I hear a booming voice that could only be Paul's interrupt my peaceful sleeping and I groan into the soft pillow my face is pressed up against.

"No thank you. Your bed is way too comfy right now to get up." I respond as I shift in the bed and I feel him peel the quilt off of me and I huff.

"I can tell that you are taking a fancy to it, but it's nearing six, and we have a place to be, love."

"What are you talking about? No we don't." I respond as his British accent lingers in my mind and then his hearty laugh enters my ears.

"Ah, my dear, you really did just wake up, huh?"

"Leave me alone." I whine in response and I open my eyes and turn to see him grinning that sly grin of his that I feel as if I have memorized from the hundreds of times I saw it in pictures, videos on YouTube and now I've seen it right in front of my eyes too many times to count.

"But, darling, we have that pottery class to be getting to!" he insists and I sigh but then smile. I have been looking awfully forward to going to it tonight, I must admit.

"Ah, there's that smile. I'll let you get dressed, and I'll be waiting downstairs. Don't take too long now."

"Yeah yeah, shoo." I reply and he winks at me before getting up from the twin bed to shut the door behind him.

I purse my lips while thinking of the outfits I can list at the top of my head and I flip the warm quilt back onto the bed. I walk over to the bed's end to find the box with clothes from John's girl Cynthia. I pull out a knee length black skirt and a teal shirt that has short sleeves and which buttons up. After slipping out of the pj's I wore last night and ones in which I fell asleep in I straighten back up and tuck the shirt into the skirt before reaching to my back to zip it up. I cock my body to face the small mirror here in Paul's plain bedroom and I look to my messy hair that I'm embarrassed I let Paul see like this. Just, wow. I rake my fingers through it and part it into three sections as the hair tie is held between my teeth.

"Will you hurry up? We're gonna be late if you take any longer!" Paul calls up the stairs with the humor oozing from his voice and I shake my head with a small grin as I quickly fishtail braid my red hair that still feels long even after the haircut.

"Oh, hush, you!" I bellow back with the smirk taking over my lips and I reach down for my bag sitting on the chair that is pressed against the wall.

I twist the door handle and shut the door behind me as I reach into my small bag to find the tube of Chapstick that I run over my pink lips. I dash down the steps to find Paul with his hands casually in his pant's pockets as he leans against the doorway of the kitchen. When I land on the floor from the last step of the staircase he looks up to me and flashes me a small smile.

"Lets get going, and do this bloody pottery class then." he grumbles as he turns for the door and I slip on my shoes before following after him to the car.

"You sound mighty excited."

"Can you tell?" he replies as I duck into the car and he slams the door behind him while fishing his car keys from his pocket.

"Only a tiny bit." I respond as I watch the cranky guy bring the car to life and he opens the glove box over by me to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from it.

I huff and turn to look out the window as I hear the strike of a match and soon him exhaling. I roll down the window to escape the horrid smell that reminds me of my mother who would suck on one of those again and again. It was like one after the other. I lean over to inhale the wind as he pulls into traffic.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is it bothering you?" he asks and I decide to slowly nod my head as the buildings, cars and people pass us one by one.

I hear him roll his window down and soon the smell becomes fainter. I stare out the window as the wind hits me directly until we arrive at the little art center that looks rather empty.

"I thought you wanted to go." I state as we walk up to the pair of double doors painted yellow. What an odd and incredibly bright color.

"I do want to." he doesn't convince me as he politely holds the door open for me and we follow a sign that points us in the direction of the few pottery studios where people are going to be dispersed into.

Paul and I arrive at an empty one that has a wide floor to ceiling window apart of the room's back window. I set my bag on the wooden table surrounded by stools, here in this small room. I glance over to the few mechanical wheels that has a foot pedal on the floor which is attached to a little electric motor. The ones we have in the future are much nicer, but the ones in this time are much more fancier than I was expecting. I glance over to the table near the window where a plastic bag of new clay sits and then I look to the two sinks behind the table. I turn my head to look at Paul who leans against the edge of the table with a far away look in his eyes. I was afraid of this.

"We didn't have to come, you know, and I'm sure they could give us a refund." I state as I grab my bag from his side and his eyes dart to me. He sighs.

"Court-." he begins and I shake my head and lift my feet to start for the door, but he gently grabs my wrist to pull me back.

"You don't want to be here, I get that. I just thought it would be fun for us to do together and-." I ramble before he cuts off my words with his smooth lips planting a kiss on mine. His hand goes to my cheek to sit there while we slowly kiss for a short moment, a sweet moment.

Afterwards he clears his throat while his cheeks turn a light pink and I tuck a lost strand of my hair behind my ear, "I uh didn't know how else to get you stop talking on like you women do," I scoff at him and he chuckles and then winks at me. "But it worked and it was I admit awfully nice. Anyways, I want to stay and make some clay masterpiece with you. But there is one condition."

"What is it? Not throwing any clay at you?" I tease and he shakes his head and then scratches his pale chin.

"No, you have to help me, because you're the artist and I'm the one who's never touched clay. Remember?" he responds and I nod my head and step forward to undo the button on his blazer.

"What're you doing?"

"You're going to get it all dirty if you leave it on, you dork." I respond and he nods and slips it off to toss on a stool.

He kisses me on the cheek briefly before I walk away to grab two blue aprons from the nail on the wall and I toss one at the grinning fella who stands in a pair of jeans and a gray button-down. It's a good thing that he didn't over dress or anything.

"Alright, do you wanna maybe try the wheel with me?" I question as I stride over to the table with the clay. He makes a funny face as he thinks and I open the bag to touch the cold block of brown clay.

"No thanks, love. I'll leave the making of masterpieces to you while I make the easy stuff that looks as if a third grader made it." he comments and I shake my head with a laugh as I struggle to tie my apron. He notices and walks on over to take the strings.

"Let me, darling." he insists and I smile to myself. I really should consider myself lucky to be here, to for once be happy and to have him.

I grab the wire cutters sitting beside the large bag that isn't the only one here and I cut a chunk big enough for me that I weigh. I cut a slab for Paul that I hand him after he tied my apron and he did his own.

"Ta. Okay, I feel dumb asking this but what exactly should I do?"

"Well you can get a little bowl of water to use and then you can pinch it to make a bowl or whatever you want." I answer him and I carry my chunk of clay over to the table and we both grab a mat to work on.

"I'm kind of surprised nobody else is in here, but I suppose that's 'cause of those other studios."

"I like having more space, don't you?" I ask him as I stand up to wedge the clay and he fills a little plastic bowl with water.

"You know, I do. It's quieter and there are less distractions. Hmm, I wonder if there's a radio somewhere in here. I prefer to work with music, how about you?"

"I'm the same way, but if there isn't one it's okay." I respond and I take the clay off of the dirty mat to round it into a ball in my hands and I see him search on this shelf near the window.

"Aha! I found the little bugger. Now lets see what kind of stations you have. They better be good." Paul speaks to the box he finds and I grin and look away from him.

I cut another piece of clay, bring it back to the mat at the square table Paul and I share to wedge while he fiddles with the knob that just runs through static. He finally finds a station that seems to play rock and roll, which we both are pleased to discover.

"So, what are you going to make? I'm sure that whatever it is it'll be grand." Paul questions as I take a seat at the wheel after filling the ice cream bucket half way with warm water. I set one of the clay balls aside as I still handle the other.

"I'm not sure because I haven't done pottery for a bit, so I might be rusty," I allude to the time that I've been here and not home. "But whenever I try to make something it most always turns into a bowl, so that's probably what I'll end up making."

He nods his head with a small smile as he undoes the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt and he rolls them up to his elbows. I look away from his round face that I'm no longer having such a tough time believing that is really in front of me, and one that I can touch. It seems like I have just about everything here. I have art, plenty of music, some good happiness, Paul and the Beatles. In 2012 they were all I ever needed to be reasonably content. I'm plenty content in this moment as the voices of The Beach Boys escape the speakers to fill every corner of the room and I smile to myself at how right things feel, finally.


	19. Chapter 19

I continue to round the ball in my hands and I look over to Paul who has his ball of clay sitting on the mat in front of him as he stares at it with a quizzical look. He really is mighty handsome and good looking. It's crazy to think that his twenty one year old self is sitting only a dozen feet away from me while his seventy year old self is in 2012 planning to go on another tour. I shake my head to dismiss those mind boggling thoughts and then he turns his head to look at me.

"So, um back in the states where you're from and in 2012 did you do this kind of stuff in college? You must of picked it up somewhere." he inquires and I see his dark eyebrows that are so flawless dip as he said '2012'. He must be still trying to get used to that fact and all.

"Well I took the class my high school had and then there are a couple at my college, and I'm taking their beginners class." I reply and I reach down to flip the switch up to see that up is the high speed and that down must be low. Hmm.

"But you, a beginner? I'm sure you're far past that if you know how to use that thing," he motions with his eyes to the wheel I sit at. "I haven't seen you in action of course, well yet, but I'm sure it takes a lot to operate that thingy."

I grin at his use of words and I throw the ball into the middle of the metal plate the shape of a circle and I get my hands as well as the clay wet before turning it on to the low speed, "It does take awhile to get used to, but once you do it's really easy, and just like with the hand building part of pottery; it all takes time." I answer his question.

"Hmm," he mumbles before looking to the window I sit next to and I flick my hair off my shoulder and I make sure the bottom of the apron is covering my nice skirt that I wouldn't want to be getting wet clay or water on now. "If you get the time could you make me something on there, like a bowl?"

I had locked my elbows on my knees and cupped my hands around the ball of clay that's suctioned to the wheel head when he said that and I look up to him to see his baby face showing an unsure look, "Never mind. This is only a two day class after all." he changes his mind and my face falls into confusion.

"Paul, I can if you want. Since we have until basically ten o'clock and I could make a lot of things by then." I tell him and I lift my hands from the clay that I'm trying to get centered. I purse my lips while I inspect it, but it's not quite there.

"It's fine, if you don't have enough time I...," he trails off while sticking his thumb into the clay ball to make a hole and then he turns to face me as I dip my hands into the warm water of the bucket that sits on a stool to my side with the tools I need beside it. "Wait, did you just say you could?"

"Yeah, I sure did. You just tell me what you want on it and what color you want it, and I'll try my best to make it." I answer and I smile at him. He returns it as he holds the ball of clay and he pulls at the string of the apron resting on his neck.

"Just surprise me. I know I'll like it however it turns out."

I nod at his words and the song on the radio ends to change to the broadcaster speaking and then a song from the fifties comes on. One that I haven't heard before, but I'm sure Paul has. I go back to the mound of wet clay that spins counterclockwise in front of me and I cup it with my hands again and I pull up to make it taller. My teacher in high school who was one of my favorites called it 'coning the hell out of it' and all of us in the class would laugh.

"So, what all do ya gotta do on there? Like what are you doing now to it?" his voice returns to me to interrupt the guitar playing coming from the speakers and I blow an orange strand of hair out of my eyes and I glance down to my hands that have wet clay all over them. Unlike most girls I actually like getting dirty and getting my hands into things.

"First you're supposed to center the clay, then you open it, pull it up, and then there's another but it's slipped my mind. My art teacher in high school called it 'COPS' though, and then some people trim a foot on the bottom when the clay is more hard and on a different day," I focus my eyes back on Paul to see him to be more confused than a guy thrown into a pack of girls who are in the middle of gossiping. "I'm getting it centered right now, though."

He nods slowly and looks back to his little masterpiece in the making that he's opening right now, and I return to my wet clay that I push down and then cone again. I find it to be centered finally and I stick my thumb into the middle and down pretty far, but I make sure that I have some space between the wheel head and my thumb for the bottom, "Do you miss back home much?" Paul surprises me with yet another question that I don't mind and my hands leave the clay to wet them with the murky brown water and I glance to him.

"Sometimes, but only a little. I really like it here though, thanks to you." I respond and I see a smile filled with pride swell on his lips and I glance to the clay sitting in his hands that is resembling a bowl; one with very thick walls.

"What about your parents, don't you miss them at all?"

I return to the clay and I proceed to open it and I shake my head slowly, "I guess there's not much to miss about them. I still wonder if they even notice that I'm not there." I respond as my eyes are set on the clay I slowly open up to thin out the walls and bring it up.

"I'm sure they have. You're their daughter after all. They're only child."

I don't respond with anything and I remove some clay from the bottom and I get all of the wet clay sludge from my hands and I look to the clay that looks a bit far from the bowl I plan to turn it into, "What are you doing to it now?"

"I'm making it more taller." I respond as I do so and his voice fades from my ears for a couple of minutes as I continue to lift what is now basically a cylinder.

After I had refined the edges and thinned the bottom and walls of the cylinder a bit I lift my eyes to Paul who is silently pinching his little bowl out as he doesn't look too excited or anything, but more like bummed out.

"I have to go back to work at the diner tomorrow." I note and he sets down the little knife after leveling off the top with it.

"Yeah, I thought so. How are ya feeling 'bout it? I reckon you're not looking forward to it. I can tell as much as that right now." he comments and I wet my hands to pull out the clay more so it's wider to be a bowl.

"I'm just nervous to be there again and to see Robby, you know?" I reply and I look up to see him nod as his chair and himself are facing me.

"You could always quit, ya know."

"I don't really like finding the easy way out of things." I remark and I grab the needle tool to take off the uneven top of the bowl. I wonder if that shows in some of the actions I've made.

"Yeah, I figured you didn't, considering that you're a pretty driven kind of girl." he adds on and I smile and then I shut off the wheel. I catch his hazel eyes and he smiles at me before looking to the bowl I just finished.

"Woah, you're already done? I felt like that took ya hardly fifteen minutes to make and I'm over here coming along with the speed of a drunken snail." he jokes and I chuckle at his words. I grab the wire cutters to cut the wet bowl off of the metal wheel head.

I purse my lips and look around for something to put this on and the shelf with everything somebody would need for pottery holds has just what I would need, "Paul, would you mind doing me a favor?"

He looks up while holding the dull knife again and his eyebrows rise as well as his open lips form to an 'O', "No, I wouldn't. Do you need something or help maybe? Even though I doubt I could be much of help to you."

"Yeah you are, don't say that. But could you grab me one of those wooden bats over there on the shelf?"

He nods his head and sets his bowl down that is about the length of my palm to the top of my knuckle, as well as its width being the same, "What're you gonna use it for?" he inquires as he walks over to me and I take it from him to set it on my lap.

"To put this on it. Could you just hold down one side for me?" I ask and he takes another step over to kneel down and his hand dirty with the dark clay places pressure on the side of the piece of wood. I set the wet bowl on it carefully and I reshape it a bit after the moving changed its shape a tad.

I thank him before he walks back over to the table, "It looks nice so far, you know." I tell him and he draws his attentive eyes away from the bowl that I'm sure will look great in the end. He looks confused at first, but then notices that I'm alluding to his bowl.

"Ta. Your bowl looks pretty gear, you know. Ah, I wish I could make one of those like you did and have it look that nice."

"I could help you make one," he makes a funny face that looks to be saying 'no'. "Unless you're scared." I decide to poke some fun with him and he huffs and stands up.

"Fine, if you're okay with me showing you up on that wheel thing." he jokes while he treads over to the table with the clay, and we both smirk.

"Just cut a piece of clay that weigh it to be a pound and a half, smart guy, and get over here." I remark and he pulls the bag down to do so and I look back to my dirty wheel that is covered in brown water and little bits of clay. I honestly have no idea how it somehow gets so messy.

I take the sponge and clean off the wheel head as he retrieves some clay and I get up so he can sit down. He rolls his sleeves up and adjusts his apron as I wedge the clay to work it and get the air out of it back at the table, "Okay, get your hands wet." I advise him after I stopped in front of him to sit on a short stool I drug over to sit next to him, but still facing him as I round the ball of clay.

He dips his hands into the water and then looks to me. I plop the ball onto the still metal head closest to the center as possible. I get my hands wet again and I show him how he should have his hands cupped around the clay that I got plenty wet with the water, "The teacher I had in high school taught us to have our thumbs locked together and our right hand overlapping our left. It might be different since you're left handed, but it should be okay." I tell him.

"You really should be an art teacher, Court. I reckon that you'd make an awfully fantastic one." he compliments me and my cheeks grow pink at the compliment as we share eye contact and then I glance back to the clay.

"Make sure your elbows have good support on your legs because that's really where you get your power from, or so my teacher said." he lifts his solid eyes to me with an amused grin at me saying that and I smile back. He does as so and I take his wet hands that are only going to get more and more dirtier in this process and he relaxes them for me to cup them around the clay that runs past his fingers.

I place my hands over his to apply the right amount of pressure, just like my art teacher did when I first learned how to make something on the wheel. Paul looks down at the clay that moves around and around under his hands that are below mine as his hairy arms are tucked into his legs that are half covered by the apron. He glances up to me and slowly looks from my eyes, past my nose, to my lips and then back to my eyes a couple of times with passion coating his eyelashes and then he grins before winking at me.

**AN: I hope that you're enjoying these new parts and I apologize if you find all of this pottery talk boring or that it doesn't make much sense. I'd love to read some reviews from you guys! **


	20. Chapter 20

I release his hands after holding them for longer than I probably should of been doing, "That's just an idea of how much pressure you wanna be putting on the clay. You want your left hand to be pushing in more too." I tell him.

"Alrighty, teach. Just keep telling me what to do." he remarks and I smirk before sitting back down and moving the chair closer to him. My, he really is such a charmer and with that wit of his.

* * *

"See, there you go! It looks really good, Paul! Especially for a beginner." I comment as I look to the circular bat he holds with his cylinder he just finished that is about the height from the bottom of my palm to the bottom of my fingers; just like his pinch bowl of his that has kind of been forgotten.

"I hope you're not just trying to make me feel better 'cause it's truly not that good."

"No, I'm being honest. I promise." I assure him and he looks down to the cylinder with a proud smile.

It was a bit hard helping him since he's never done it before, but we had fun with it and he turned out this great piece. I told him he must a natural, but he disagreed.

* * *

I plop down onto his springy bed and I glance around the dark room and then I feel the bed shift and his shoulder collides with mine on accident; I groan and then I follow his laugh with my own.

"Ah, I can't believe that you made four bowls, two vases and a coffee mug. Bloody hell, you just turned them out like it was nothing," I yawn and I soon feel his arm wrapping around my left shoulder. "You made it look so easy too. I honestly still have no idea how I made that one thing, probably with all of your great help."

"Mm, stop talking. I want to sleep." I respond jokingly and he chuckles and I scramble to get under the thick covers with my tired legs. I have my eyes closed as I feel his calloused fingertips brush themselves across my cheek and then he kisses a whisper of a peck on my temple.

"**_Love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart. For it's there that I belong, and we'll never part_**." I soon hear his flawless voice that sings softly and slowly as his fingers continue to drag themselves across my cheek here in the darkness of his bedroom after we just got in as it's quarter past ten. I smile to myself at hearing his lovely voice and how I remember hearing that song playing on the radio while at the pottery studio where we had a grand time at together.

"I love your voice." I tell him with my sleepy voice as he lays on top of the covers of the fairly small bed.

"Yeah, that's what most girls say." he comments cheekily and I groan and blindly swat at him. He giggles and takes my hand from his arm and then I feel his hand on my cheek before his lips briefly meet mine in a short kiss.

"Wow, you're so good at ruining a romantic moment." I comment afterwards and he scoffs as I turn around to place my back to him.

"What? But we just kissed." he insists and I laugh as I flick my braid over my shoulder. I yawn.

"Court, please don't fall asleep just yet." he whines as my heavy eyes threaten to take me off into a wonderland.

I feel his lips kiss my hair and then his hand lays itself on top of mine affectionately. I suddenly think of the apparent rumors that aren't so apparent or more true about how Paul in the sixties, where I am now, slept with a lot of women and acted as if he cared about them just to use them for pleasure. Just like a lot of celebrities in general do because of the attention; they take advantage of it. I slip my hand out from his warm one at the almost frightening thought. He hasn't been acting this whole time has he? What about the thoughtful hugs, rubbing my back, getting me to stop crying when I thought it nearly impossible before, the caring looks, the little kisses and the almost tender moments we've had together? His hand slides back over to mine as my mind is awake now and coming up with thoughts.

"Paul?" I ask him and I turn around and he flicks on the bright lamp near the bed to illuminate his tired features that are even more attractive to me right now.

"Hmm?" he responds and I look over those puppy dog eyes that could convince any girl of something he says.

"Do you think that this is right?" his arched eyebrows dip in confusion. "I mean us. I'm really just messing everything up because you're supposed to end up with someone who isn't me and-."

"If you don't want this, then just say so. I thought you wanted to be with me though." he responds with a voice that he tries hard to keep balanced and to not have his emotion show in it.

"Paul, I do. I-."

"What, Court? Is it the age difference or that we don't know each other all that well? My dad was seven years older than my mum and it never stopped them from being together, becoming married and having my brother and I. Shakespeare married his cousin who was way younger than him, and they seemed to turn out fine! We were making pottery together, going on walks together and I get to look across the room at the studio to see you sitting there enjoying yourself as I play! Or is it something else entirely that's your reason for bringing this up all of a sudden?" he runs on while his droopy eyes work their ways on me. There's no way he could be improvising this.

"Paul, I-."

"No. You know what? Just forget it, Court," he interrupts me with his sudden change of tone that is harsh and he wiggles out of the bed to step on the floor. "I thought we were having a fab night with the pottery class and how we talked about tons of things, but I guess tonight didn't turn into that good of a night after all. You can have my bed; I'll take the couch. G'night." he concludes with his tense as well as cold voice before leaving quick enough so I can't stop him by saying something. He closes the door behind him and I huff.

I let my head fall back onto the pillow as most of the room is lit by the lamp that shows brightly. I didn't want to make him mad or let alone to cause him to yell at me like he just about did, but I didn't want to just stick that thought away to avoid it and have it come up at the least expected times. I stare up at the ceiling and I think of how we really did have a blast at the art studio. I helped him throw that cylinder and how he took such pride in it even though I did offer a lot of help, and how he got the both of us laughing so hard from throwing these little clay balls; something that he started in the beginning when he got bored as I was struggling to get my vase to look just right. Then we spoke about our families briefly which led to us speaking about little memories we have from when we were little. Paul laughed at some of the goofy ones I have, but I didn't mind because I knew that they're weird.

Unwanted tears rush to my eyes and I take a deep breath and wipe me eyes before they can spill out onto my cheeks and I leave his bed. I grab the sweater I tossed on the chair earlier to wrap around myself. I quietly walk downstairs so I won't wake anybody and I find the living room to be dark and quiet as Paul must be sleeping on the couch like he said. I quietly sigh and tip toe into the kitchen to find a glass in the cupboard that I fill with water from the tap to down as the silence eats away at me as it lets the nagging thoughts harbor in my mind. I set the glass in the sink and I leave the kitchen and I look out the window next to the door to see the sidewalk lit by the yellow light of the streetlamp.

"Going outside, are ya? Do you really think that's a smart move?" Paul's voice that appears almost out of nowhere surprises me as my arms hug myself. I snap my head to see him standing in a t shirt and sweats with his messy mop top masking his forehead.

"I-." he just won't even let me speak three damn words because he's too impatient to speak himself.

"Why in the bloody hell would you go outside when it's nearly eleven o'clock at night?" he demands and I almost shake my head at his assumption.

"Did I have my hand on the door knob or did I have one foot out of the door? No, I didn't! I wasn't going to leave like you seem to think I always do."

"Well, what am I supposed to think? It's what you bloody do when things get hard." he retorts. Apparently I'm not as brave as I think, but don't most people underestimate or apparently in my case over estimate themselves?

"Why do you treat me like I'm a little girl? I'm not an idiot, you know! I wish you would quit treating me like I'm one." I shoot back and I see his formerly hard eyes soften and his straight lips fall to a small frown.

"Court-."

"No, Paul. Will you please just leave me alone? I don't want to talk to you right now." I reply as I turn away with my throat aching from the tears that I'm sure will arrive soon.

"Let me talk, please." he requests and I turn to look at him.

"Let you talk? Why should I let you speak when I would try to put a word in and you would interrupt me the second I got started? That's hardly fair!" I return and I don't try to hide the emotion in my voice and I catch a glimpse of the hurt showing in his eyes before I look away. I don't want to be sucked into their beauty another time; who knows what time it would be now.

"Love.." he begins and I face his eyes again to see him trail off and his lips meet each other to shut his mouth.

I continue to hug my arms against the drop in temperature because of the night and I glance to the floor where my feet are planted; where I can't seem to lift my feet and walk away like I want to be doing. I suddenly feel the tears coming and then his voice that was intimidating a few minutes ago is kind, somehow, "Courtney-."

"I said leave me alone." I retort quickly as the tears are blurring my vision.

"I know you did, but I'm not going to."

"I'm mad at you, can't you see that?" I cry to him as we share this eye contact I decide to break by walking away from him.

"No, no, I'm not letting you off the hook that easily." he appears to think this is funny in some strange and bizarre way while I'm blazing with anger and trying to hide my hurt feelings.

I walk towards the stairs and I sigh and let the tears fall onto my cheeks as I near the first step. I wish that for once I wouldn't screw up something that is already so great.

**AN: Hey, guys! So i'm officially back with this story since I've written a lot for it already, so you don't need to worry about me pausing it anytime soon. I'd love to hear some reviews from you guys and I hope that you're liking the direction it's going in. I apologize for the long time since the last update, it won't be as long next time! **


	21. Chapter 21

His warm hand gently grabs my arm and I foolishly stop to face his tear-blurred figure as my lip quivers. My muscles are tired and I just want to sink to my knees instead of climbing those stairs up to his bedroom where we were just canoodling and then we fought, and here it continues. He step forwards and snugly loops his arms around my shuddering body even though I don't want to be hugged by him or to even be near him right this second. I relax in his arms and I move my arms to hug him back as my forehead rests on his broad shoulder and I cry into it as I feel one of his hands cradling my red haired head that I've always hated since I was little; it's never any fun being a ginger with tons of freckles that get even worse in the summer due to the exposure of the sun.

"I'm sorry, Court. I didn't mean to make you sad or to yell at you like I did. I would never think of you as an idiot; I actually think you're one of the most smartest people I've ever met. You're so cool too with your mad pottery skills that I couldn't even dream about having and you can't forget how strikingly beautiful you are with your red hair and those brown eyes that look like chocolate," he takes a pause from his speaking that doesn't seem to be really having a point with how I am as I continue to cry and he pulls me over to the couch where he sits me beside him, still with his limbs holding me. "Now how about you talk too so I'm not the only one speaking here."

"I don't want to." I mutter into his shoulder that gives me support and I feel his nose brush against my head.

"Yell at me. Tell me why you're so angry with me. Call me out. Shoot blows at me. Do it." he insists and I sniffle.

"What?"

"I said yell at me. I know you want to do it. I wanna know just how I make you mad," he in a way repeats himself and I look to our laps that are now illuminated by the lamp he turned on when he first confronted me over by the door. "Rant to me about what is bothering you and what's on your mind."

"I feel like I don't belong here and that I shouldn't be here. I'm scared to go home and see my mother who I never want to see again. I know that she isn't going to change and I'm afraid that I'm going to find her dead on the bathroom floor or something one of these days," I inhale a large breath while my fingers pick at the cuff of the dark sweater I wear and one that provides me with some warmth. "I don't want to go to the diner anymore, because now I hate it there. I don't even want to be here because I'd keep wanting to get out. I keep messing things up too. With you and everyone else. I say everything wrong and do everything wrong."

"No you don't." he disagrees and then turns silent as his hand cups my shoulder.

"I didn't mean to say that I don't want to be with you earlier, but I don't know if it's right. I feel like I took you away from Jane, and that was never supposed to happen. But I'd be lying to myself and you if I stayed away from you or said that I don't want to be with you. You make me happy, so happy-most of the time-and I haven't had that for awhile." I tear my eyes away from the sweater to see his sleepy pair to be set on me that look so patient.

"Okay I get that, now tell me just why you're angry at me and say all of that stuff I know that you're itching to say."

I exhale and glance away to look to the coffee table that has its space taken up by empty tea cups, empty as well as full packs of cigarettes, a box of matches, a plastic bag of guitar picks, an open drawing pad with the start of a sentence written on it as a pencil is idle beside it, and more things that are hidden underneath the others, "I'm only a few years younger than you, but yet you sometimes treat me like I'm your little sister. And it bugs me. I can take care of myself. I hate it when you raise your voice too because is it really all that necessary for to get your point across?"

"Again I don't think that you're an idiot or a child-."

"Then why do you act like I am one sometimes?" I demand and he sighs. "You don't need to be so damn protective of me! It's not like something is going to happen to me."

"Yeah for all we know something won't. I'm protective of you 'cause I don't want something to happen to you, 'cause to be honest I don't know how I'd feel if something did. I feel like it's my responsibility to watch over you, and maybe to protect you too," I see the meaning in his sleepy eyes that he rubs before continuing. "You know, I feel guilty for what happened at the diner with Robbie. I feel like I could've stopped it by coming by to say hi so you weren't back there in the kitchen or that I should've convinced you to never get that job in the first place."

"Paul, it's not your fault what happened with Robbie and I. It was his fault by doing what he did." I tell him as he slightly frowns and he brushes his thumb over the small cut that you can still faintly see on my cheek; it's almost gone thankfully.

"I know, but I feel guilty about it. When I came to pick you up I almost left the car to go into the diner to find that bastard so I could put some sense into him; and not with words." he comments and my mind draws a blank on what I should say back or if I should say anything in response.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I guess it's just a guy thing, but I'll try not to again. If you didn't mean that about the whole being together thing then what you were trying to say?"

"Maybe if you would've given me the chance to speak you would've heard it," I retort without thinking and I glance to his deep eyes. "But I meant what I said about that I'm screwing everything up because you marry somebody else and that's not me. I've already changed things." I explain as I toy with the two bracelets on my wrists that I never want to take off.

"Maybe things are changed and messed up for forever," he comments and I look up at him and his joking look fades and his hand takes one of mine into his own. "That's okay though 'cause then maybe things will end up differently and it's fine if they do."

"No it's not, Paul. I might be changing the future and what happens to you. That's not supposed to happen."

"But it has, Court, and it's alright. There's nothing we can do about it," his look changes as we look at each other and he shakes his head after getting something from the look on my face. "No, don't you dare think about it or even say it. You're staying. We're not going to solve this by you leaving. I'm not gonna let it happen. I won't."

"But I have to go back one day, won't I? I can't be here forever, because I don't belong here." I add on and I see the realization cover his face.

"Yeah I reckon you will have to, but lets not worry about that now. You're here right now and I'm sure that something would need to be done for you to go back; the same thing or way that got you here."

"But what if I wake up one morning and I'm no longer here? I'm afraid that that'll happen and that I-I won't see you ever again." I remark and he bites his lip while staying silent and I soon hear the hum of the heat ducts running.

"It won't happen, 'cause I'm not gonna let it." he states and I let my head fall to the back of the couch.

"I know that you don't want to go home and see your parents and that you also don't feel all too welcome here, but it's where you are right now," he comments. "I don't care that Jane and I aren't together now, even though it may be because of you, but if it is I'm happy for it. And sure we have a few years between us, but that's no biggy."

"It's a good thing we're not cousins like Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway, huh?" I remark with a small grin and a smirk appears on his lips.

"I reckon that it is." he replies with a soft laugh ending his sentence and then I yawn and his own shortly follows.

He smiles at me adorably and I can't resist to smile back and he bumps my nose on purpose with his thumb and I smirk. Our smiles fade to serious looks as we look at each other silently with soft expressions, "Are you still mad at me?" he questions and I nod my head and he scoffs.

"What, how come?"

"Because you just have to be so dramatic sometimes." I complain playfully as I hold back a smile that arrives a few seconds later and he shakes his head.

"Nah, I think that you're talking about yourself now." he remarks and I sigh and I close my eyes.

"Do you wanna head up to bed then or talk more? 'Cause I reckon we're not done talking just yet." he questions and our hands leave the other's and I cross my arms over my chest.

"Can we finish it in the morning? I'm really tired."

"Yeah of course. I was actually hoping you we're going to say that 'cause I feel like I'm gonna fall asleep right this second. Lets head up to bed then, love."

"But you always hog all of the blankets in your bed." I comment and I open my heavy eyes to see him grinning at me.

"You're getting quite the attitude, you know."

"I must be getting it from you." I remark and he grins with his eyes locked on mine and I yawn loudly.

"Come on, Ms. Sass. Lets go up to bed and this time I'll try my best to not steal all of the covers from you." he announces and I nod silently and we peel our tired bodies off of the couch to trudge up the flight of stairs to his open bedroom where we fall onto the bed.

"Give me." I whine as we fight over the blanket and he laughs before letting go and I turn over to face the wall as he has the outside. In the simplest of words I'm going to be squished tonight.

"Come on, make some more room." Paul comments and I groan and move my legs to get comfortable.

"You already have plenty, you fatty." I joke and he scoffs and flips me over to look at me and a laugh escapes my lips.

"You better watch it." he scolds with a small grin growing on those lips of his.

"And what if I don't?"

"Oh, you don't want to find out." he replies and I giggle as he pulls the covers up to his shoulders and I move my arm to under the pillow.

I move my hair out of my eyes and I focus back on Paul who looks at me softly with a smirk that I'm confused by, "Why the grin, smart guy?" I ask and he shakes his head and then shrugs his shoulders.

"No reason."

"Paul." I reply with a serious look because of him refusing to tell me this reason and he nods his dark haired head up and down.

"I'm just thinking that I've got a great girl, that's all." I immediately smile at his sweet words and he lifts his head to softly plant a peck on my cheek before he reaches behind his back to shut off the lamp as our legs touch; there is not much space in this bed, I'm telling you.

I yawn and feel his legs touching mine before I let my eyes flutter close and sleep soon takes me away.

**AN: Thoughts? Let me know what you think!**


	22. Chapter 22

I open my eyes the next morning to find the bedroom to no longer be so incredibly dark like it was last night, but instead I can see almost everything because of the shades not being drawn over the window flooded with sunlight anymore. I hear a noise and I look up to see Paul sleeping a few inches away from me and he makes a noise again; oh great he's the kind who snores. How did I not notice this before? I yawn and when I move to get comfy I realize that his arm is around my waist and I find his warm hand to be planted at the bottom of my back. I smile to myself and lay my head back down on the pillow and I nervously snuggle up to Paul with my head nuzzled against his warm chest. I close my eyes and the loud noise of booming voices and then footsteps meet my ears. I was just starting to drift off to sleep again when a loud knock on Paul's bedroom door wakes me and I hear Paul groan and he stirs next to me.

"Mm." he mumbles, still asleep as the knocking doesn't cease but instead becomes louder and then Paul really wakes up with a big yawn.

"What'd ya want? We're trying to sleep." he calls as I keep my eyes closed and finally the knocking quits.

"It's almost time we leave for the studio, Paulie, and doesn't Courtney work at the diner today?" John's sharp voice meets us from the other side of the door.

"Oh no." I mumble into his soft t shirt and I feel Paul's hand move higher on my back to choose a spot to rest on.

"Yeah yeah, we're up now go on!"

"You're welcome for the wake up call, you know!" John calls back and Paul groans before letting his head fall back onto the long pillow as I have my eyes open now.

I yawn and move my head to snuggle more into him and I feel his long legs move next to mine, "Court, we should probably get up."

"Do we have to?"

"Unfortunately yeah or else you'll be getting fired and I'm going to be lectured by my manager if I don't show up." he responds and I sigh and I close my eyes.

"Come on, darling, wakey wakey. It's time for work." he comments with his groggy voice. As if I don't find his British accent sexy enough now the attractiveness of his voice is at another whole level.

"I don't like work."

He chuckles softly and his fingers are soon stroking my cheek, "I know you don't and neither do I sometimes, but we don't really have a choice about going." he comments and my eyes leave their darkness to fall upon his round face and I notice his five o'clock shadow that just adds to how handsome he is.

"Well good morning."

"Don't push it." I reply and he laughs and I move away from his heated body that was warming mine to wiggle out of his bed and I grab a red skirt and a short sleeved white t shirt to wear to work as I drag my feet to the bathroom. I hate mornings, can't you tell?

I change out of my wrinkled pajamas as I'm still half of the way asleep and I toss my dirty clothes into the laundry hamper where plenty of guys clothes already are. I find a towel and I lock bathroom door before I turn on the water to the shower and I step in to take a quick in.

* * *

"Come on, chop chop! Lets get going!" Paul insists when I walk into the kitchen with my wet hair up in a bun.

"But what about breakfast?" I reply with a puzzled look as Paul leans against the kitchen's doorway now dressed in a sharp but causal outfit of a blue button-down and black dress pants.

"I reckoned that we could get something at the diner for brekky. Would that be alright with you?" he suggests and I nod my head slowly even though I don't want to go back there. I wonder if he remembers me saying that.

* * *

After Paul parked at the curb we walk in and he politely holds the door open as he wears some shades as an attempt to hide himself from fans. I wonder how great it'll go.

"Courtney doll, you don't work another hour. Why are you here so early, love?" Pearl who steps out from behind the counter with her red apron on in a way greets.

"We thought we'd have some breakfast here."

"Oh, it'd be my pleasure to seat you and get you menus. Come along then." she replies with a toothy smile showing her white teeth and we follow after with Paul whistling next to me. We're led to a booth where we sit across from each other.

Pearl sets down a menu in front of us both and I pick it up to scan through it, "Now can I get either of you a cup of coffee or tea?"

"Yeah, I'll have tea, thanks." Paul responds without looking up from the menu he stares down at as he still wears the shades.

"I'll have coffee." I respond and she jots that down onto the pad of paper she holds securely in her hand and she walks off after saying she'll be back in a minute with them.

I exhale my breath slowly as my eyes flit back and forth to read the choices of meals they have. I decide on the French Toast meal with a side of sausage links and I set aside my menu and Pearl returns with our hot beverages. I pull the little jar of sugar over to add a few spoonfuls into it as well as some milk from the little jug sitting near the window next to the glass bottle of ketchup and the salt and pepper shakers. I dump a little more sugar into the steaming coffee that emits a hot wave up towards me.

"Do you got enough sugar?" Paul asks and I lift my eyes to see his light pair no longer hidden by the glasses as the diner is rather empty, a pair that are unmistakable to be sitting on me.

"I can't drink it if it doesn't have enough." I comment and he nods with a small smile and glances down to his tea that is in the same mug as me; plain white with a simple handle as well as design.

I look over his black hair that falls over his pale forehead. I look to his dark eyelashes that almost touch his milky skin as he peers into his tea he stirs with the silver spoon. Before I get the chance to admire more of his features for what must be the thousandth time he glances up to catch me looking at him and I catch him grinning before I look away with flushed cheeks. They don't call him The Cute Beatle for nothing.

"Staring at me handsome face, are ya?" he asks and I look away from the empty stretch of counter where I would usually find old men nursing a cup of black coffee as well as lonely teenagers cradling a chocolate milkshake.

"I'm sure you'd be glad to hear it if I said yes to that."

He smirks and shakes his round head and he raises his tea to his pointed lips to drink from the mug. One that must be an exact replica of the two I dropped and broke the last time I was here; when the whole incident with Robbie occurred. I almost shudder at the thought of having to face him again, and the frightening possibility that what happened the last time may just occur again. My head snaps to the door when I hear the bell of the door signaling the arrival of a customer and I notice the man coming in having a medium build with dark hair slicked back; he resembles Robbie quite a lot. I look away back to the table that separates Paul and I.

"You know, I highly doubt Robbie will still be working here. You aren't worrying about that, are you?" Paul interrupts our silence as the jukebox in the back corner plays a current tune that doesn't ring a bell for me. I tear my gaze away from the table to make eye contact with the kind fellow.

"No." I lie and I see him purse his lips as his hands are cupped around the ivory mug.

"You're an awfully bad liar, do you know that?" he remarks and I smile for a second until I think of the way Robbie forcefully pushed me up against the wall and how fear filled my veins and every inch of my body with its paralysis.

I see Paul's small smirk fade after I didn't respond with a witty line or grin at his comment, "It's alright. Nothing is going to happen."

"But what if something does?" I can even hear the edge to my voice, one that is doing a bad job of hiding the anxiety I'm feeling right this moment.

"Alright, loves. Now that you've had some time to think about your options, have you decided on what you'll be getting this morning or should I give you some more time?" Pearl walks up before Paul could say anything and his eyes that aren't so confident and comfortable as they were a few moments ago look up to the head waitress; the manger of this place.

"I reckon that we're ready to order," Paul answers and he grabs his menu to find his choice of meal again. "Uh I'm going with the omelette meal with the side of hash browns and bacon."

She asks him all what he wants in his omelette and he answers after pondering the thought for a moment as it feels as if my thoughts are attempting to swallow me.

"Excuse me, love?" Pearl asks me as I'm almost far away somewhere else.

"Court, time to order." Paul's voice really pulls me out of it and I look to see his high eyebrows dipped in a puzzled expression and Pearl gazing at me with her eyes accentuated with pastel eyeshadow reaching up to her drawn on eyebrows.

"I'm sorry. I'll um have the French Toast meal with the sausage links, please." I comment after I looked away from their waiting expressions and I watch her write that down. She takes our menus and walks off to give the ticket to the chef; I wonder if that chef is Robbie.

"...can tell me, you know." Paul comments and I look away from the light brown infinity of my coffee to his concerned look.

"Did you even hear a word of what I just said to you?" he inquires, not in an angry tone.

I shake my head first before using my words like the big girl I am, "No, sorry." I respond and he glances to the window as a girl on a red bicycle passes by before returning his attention to me in front of him.

"I was wondering what you're thinking. You can trust me, I hope you know that. Yeah I know that we haven't known each other hardly all that long, but still. I know that it's got to do with Robbie and you going back to work here today; actually shortly," he repeats for me. "Tell me, please."

"I just don't want to see him."

"Well I get that. That isn't hard to figure out," he takes a short pause. "He isn't going to hurt you again, you know." he concludes as I look into his deep eyes that I just want to lose myself in for a little while so I don't have to deal with the aspects of my life right now and the things I know that I'll have to face.

"You don't know that. I don't even know that."

"Pearl probably fired him!" he exclaims a little too loud and he looks around and sighs before glancing back over in my direction.

"What I'm trying to say, Court, is that you don't have to do this if you don't want to. Yeah he could've been kicked out of here and you may never see him again, but it's not like you have to keep the job you have here. Pearl seems like a quite understanding lady," we both look over to the cheery waitress filling an old guy's cup of coffee as both of their smiling lips move. "But you're not bound by a bloody contract to stay here and wait tables or pour coffee to strangers you don't even know!"

"Wouldn't that look bad if I just quit?" I respond and he shrugs his shoulder, but then shakes his head.

"Not with what happened, 'cause then it'd be plenty reasonable, I reckon." he comments and I groan at not getting a real clear answer and I cross my arms and lay my head on them that rest on the table.

"Court," his inviting voice meets my ears and I sigh and I lift my head to rest my chin on my laid out arms. I see his sorry look, "I don't want to seem like some coward. Not this time." I tell him softly and he seems to understand my words.

**AN: Thoughts? Do you like the direction the story is going in? I haven't heard from you guys on this story for awhile so I'd love to hear some comments from you readers on it to tell me what you think of it and if you have any suggestions or that kind of thing!**


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: Howdy, guys! I liked writing this part and the upcoming part where some not big, but still important stuff happens and I hope that you like it too! I'd really love some reviews because you guys have been pretty quiet since I returned to this story and it would be really awesome if you dropped your thoughts for me to read! Enjoy! **

"Are you going to be okay then?" the man I have posters as well as pictures on almost every inch of my wall back home of asks me as we stand up from the cushioned booth with our bellies now full.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." I tell him and he takes out his wallet to lay a bill on the table in the center. I feel guilty because of that, I wish I could for once help him with the paying of the meal.

"That's one of those things that is easier said than done." he comments as he stuffs his black wallet back into his rear pocket and he steps over to peck my cheek lightly.

"I'll see you later when I come by after work is done. That's when you got off right, or is it earlier?"

"Four, actually." I in a way correct him and I watch his face grow slightly tense.

"Oh, well I probably won't be off by then but if I am I'll come by to get you or I'll have somebody pick you up to bring you to the studio to stay with us for the time being, yeah?" I nod my head and he smiles and glances around before his eyes fall back on me. "If you need anything don't hesitate to give the studio a ring, alright?"

"Yeah, Paul. I got it." I answer and he nods and leans in to kiss me on the lips softly before walking away and out the glass door with the echoing sound of the bell ringing behind him.

I sigh and look to the clock that tells me I have a few minutes until my shift starts. I take a deep breath before walking to the back to clock in and throw on my apron that now has a name tag for me on it. Hmm.

* * *

I stand behind the counter tending to the needs of the line of people sitting at the counter with a burger and fries on their plate. I sigh and turn around to place the half full coffee pot back on it's plate and I hear the sound I've been hearing on and off all day; the bell ringing each time somebody leaves out of the door or comes in through it. I blow out a breath that moves my bangs that are scattered on my forehead and I cross my arms over my chest clad in this apron and I glance to the clock above the booths sitting at the window. I only have two more hours until I get off. Thank goodness. I glance to the windows giving a look to outside and I spot a suited man standing with his back to the door and I see his hand drop to let go of a cigarette that he stamps out with his shoe. I watch as he turns around to reach for the door and a sudden smile appears on my lips; that ebony colored hair and those prominent eyebrows hidden by his black sunglasses are ones I've seen many times before; what is he doing here? My gaze as well as attention is pulled away by a customer sitting on one of the bar stools on the left side near the door and he asks for a cup of Joe. I grab a mug to pour him one and he silently nods in thanking before I turn away to set the pot back on its heater and I look to my left to see the tall and dark, handsome man take a seat at the right side stretch of counter that is separated from the burly men drinking coffee by the door for the waitresses to get out and deliver food. I grin before wiping off my apron and I walk over to see him glancing around and then he looks straight at me when I stop in front of him.

"Hey, sailor. Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'd love it if you did, miss. Can I get one of those burgers of yours with chips and an extra chocolatey milkshake?" he requests as he raises his shaped eyebrows and I pull out the pad of paper from my pocket to write that down.

"Shouldn't you be at work recording guitar solos and your singing?" I question Paul while I write the three items down as my eyes aren't on him.

"Well I have to have lunch, you know. We were supposed to have it earlier, but we all got kind of side tracked with recording. I'm starving though, gosh." he comments as I lift my eyes to see him doodling on a napkin with a pen he must of drawn from his pocket.

I turn around to rip off the ticket that I hang up for the head chef who is here today; I haven't seen a glimpse of Robbie at all today. I turn my body back to Paul who looks bored and he shrugs off his dark jacket to hang on the back of the swiveling chair he sits on and I lay my folded arms on the counter as I watch him draw a cartoon of a guy, "So, have ya ran into Robbie any today?" he questions quietly while his eyes are focused on the white napkin.

"Nope. Thank God I haven't." I comment and he nods his head silently.

"I know that I've always been the quiet one and now it's you that's quiet. Why is that?" I inquire as my chin rests on my fist and he glances up at me briefly as his left hand moves in all kinds of directions.

"I'm just tired." he responds softly as I hear the murmur of voices coming from all around me and the sizzling of the flat top behind me in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry. I can take the couch tonight then and you can have your bed to yourself finally." I tell him and I see a kind smile crack on his lips before he shakes his head slowly.

"Nah, it's okay. I like my current sleeping arrangement, and it's working fine, I reckon; even though there seem to never be enough blankets for the both of us or room as well. It's just the waking up at nine in the morning that beats me." he responds and he drops the blue ink pen to take off his sunglasses that show me his droopy eyes I've drawn as well as painted many times ever since I got hooked on the Beatles years ago.

"Well don't you get a day off anytime soon?"

"Tomorrow, actually. Our manager Brian is finally being rather kind to us by giving us one to rest up and get fat by eating all day," I smirk and he does too as his mouth moves in unison with the playful words he speaks. "So I'm going to be sleeping in as late as I want probably. Wait, do you work tomorrow at all?"

"Nope." I respond and he smiles big while nodding. I wonder what that smile is hiding; maybe an idea of some sort.

"It looks like we're going to be having a lazy day to ourselves then. Maybe play some records, eat a bag or two of crisps, down a few Cokes and play some card games too."

"Yeah and I'm going to beat you at them." I tell him and he laughs and runs a hand through his hair before replying.

"I guess we'll have to see about that, love." he responds and I suddenly hear the ding of the bell the chef rings when the food is ready. I wink at Paul before turning around to find Marty setting another plate on the metal divider and I grab the milkshake of Paul's.

I cock my body to set it on the counter for Paul and I see his eyes light up at the appearance of the tall glass filled with the milkshake and the large dollop of whip cream and you can't forget the red cherry on top, "Is this extra chocolatey like I asked for?" he questions and I roll my eyes as I pick up the plate and basket for another customer.

"Oh just eat it." I tell him as I open the little door to walk out and I hear his hearty laugh as I walk away to set the food on a table in back for a couple. I take a dirty plate that they're done with from them that I set in the kitchen before returning to Paul to see him sucking on the straw that's buried in the sweet milkshake as he holds the newspaper in one hand.

"Whatcha reading about?" I question and I peek around to see the front of it and I notice him to be on the music page.

"Ohoho." he comments after the straw leaves his lips and I see him make a look like 'uh oh'.

"What?" I ask and he purses his lips and inches his thick finger like he's saying 'come here' and I lean forward as he moves the paper to let me see.

I spot a black and white picture that is very grainy on the right side in a bottom column and I look down to the bold headline that pops up at you: '**_McCartney and His New Teenage Girlfriend?'_**. My amused smile goes and I glance to the small paragraph below that reads as so: "**The Beatle and the red head have been spotted around London the past week at a local diner having lunch together, walking the street together as they chat and she's been spotted exiting the band's London flat more than a few times as of lately. The London actress Jane Asher who just announced her break up with the famous musician seems to be out of the picture and replaced with another red head. I wonder what the fans will think of this."**

I look away with a grimace and Paul spots it and folds the paper to set down, "What? They're just poking fun, that's all. It's what they do, just to get something out of it and to sell copies so they can make money."

"Still. It's like they're labeling me as some skimpy girl who is like some groupie who sleeps around." I respond and I lean down to grab the wet washcloth from the shelf where a bucket sits full of bubbly water that was scathing hot when I filled it a few hours ago. I wring it out and move over to Paul's left where empty chairs are and crumbs littering the counter space.

"Court, that's not what they're saying," he appears to disagree and I look to him as I wash the countertop. "That's not how it looks to me." I remark and he sighs and picks up the paper he folded sloppily to return it to the way he must of found it.

"Come on, it's not flattering. You must agree with that." I declare as I again take my stance in front of his sitting figure.

"Okay, I get where you're coming from on that. But they're just making up rubbish, it's what they do! It's what they do to famous people 'cause they have nothing else better to do, really. You can't let it bother you though, 'cause that's just what they want." Paul responds and I forget about my annoyance at that and I see his soft eyes looking into mine. I swear that these butterscotch pair can never make you stay mad.

"Then what do you suggest I do about it?"

"Just play it off like its nothing, 'cause that's what it is; nothing. You can always add a dash of pride in 'cause I'm sure there are some secretaries at that paper who are mighty jealous of seeing a picture of you and me in there. They probably wish that they were you instead of having to sit at the bloody desk answering phones, getting tea for their boss, and having to satisfy his hormonal needs." he remarks as my eyes melt into his and I inch toward his soft face as my arms rest on the counter space and I see him glance to my idle lips and I glance to his as the space between us decreases.

"Cheeseburger with a side of chips!" Marty calls out and he rings the bell that makes me jump a little as my nose almost touches Paul's. We both blush and I turn away to retrieve his food for him. That was close, but man do I wish that we hadn't been disturbed.


	24. Chapter 24

I set his food down in front of him and I watch him grin big before picking up a fry that he pops in his mouth with a smile. He then looks up at me and his brow tenses, "Hey, when's your break?" he questions and I glance to the clock that just struck quarter after two.

"It's right now." I tell him and he smiles and I walk around to sit by him and he pushes the basket of fries over to me.

"No thanks, I'm good."

"I doubt that you've had anything since breakfast this morning, so go ahead. I don't mind. I don't need to be getting any more fat anyways." he comments and I giggle and pick up a hot fry that I eat in one bite. They're perfectly greasy and they have the right amount of crunch and salt to them.

I look to Paul who chews a bite of the juicy burger and he picks up a napkin to wipe the ketchup from around his lips and I reach to the napkin dispenser to get one and I wipe the corner of his mouth that he didn't get. He turns his head to look at me and we exchange small smiles before we continue staying silent to eat.

I was munching away on the delicious fries that are probably full of tons of calories as Pearl took over my spot behind the counter refilling the men's cups of coffee as well as tea over there and being a pair of ears they could speak with and vent to about the long hours they drive on the roads for their work or how they just got in a fight with their girlfriend. There's one man over there who doesn't have a frown covering his face, but instead he's beaming even though his eyes are showing how tired he is and depleted of sleep. He told me that his wife gave birth to a daughter this morning after they've been a family of three boys for years. I congratulated him and gave the new father a hot doughnut on the house and he smiled at me with the wrinkles around his eyes from age and running around trying to catch his three sons showed as his smile makes up for the sleep beckoning in his eyes. I glance over to see that the man must of left to get back to his wife and new baby daughter he left for a while to have a cup of coffee full of the caffeine he probably needs and a plate of eggs and hash browns that he said really hit the spot before I walked away to talk with Paul who munches away on his burger that has only a couple of bites left to it.

"I don't think you look like some groupie who hangs out with the band just to get in bed with them." he comments quietly so the old couple passing him from behind to leave won't hear and I swallow my fry and I glance to the basket that doesn't have many left because of my hungry stomach.

"It's kind of how it looks though. I'm seen with you out on the streets, having breakfast in the mornings and leaving your guys' place in the morning." I respond and I think of how one time I almost wanted to be a groupie back in the sixties, if I was born in this time, after watching the movie 'Almost Famous'. I decided against wanting to ever be that because of the STD's, the chance of being left pregnant and never talking to the father again who didn't really care about in the first place and who just wanted to get in your pants for an hour of two for the mind blowing pleasure that used to be the thing that was only meant for a husband and wife.

"That's just what people think then. People always see things in the wrong way 'cause they either want to think that or they don't know the truth. Sometimes they don't deserve to know the truth 'cause they have no entitlement to it. That's one thing I hate about the band being as famous as we are is that they print these things about us that aren't true, for the sole reason to get a kick out of people's reactions and so they can make profit." he comments almost sadly and I get a twang of feeling bad for him.

I want to tell him that he shouldn't expect it to get better and that it's only to worsen, because he sacrificed so much to stay in the limelight the rest of his life. He did choose it, but once he walked onto that stage for the first time there wasn't any turning back. If Paul hadn't chose to do a solo career or form Wings he still wouldn't of been left alone, I know it. I sigh and let my head fall to his shoulder and he picks up his milkshake to sip from the chocolateness.

"How is it? Is it chocolatey enough for you, sir?" I tease him to change the mood that just changed for the worse and he sets the wet glass in front of me.

"I think it's really great. Have a few sips, I don't mind." he insists and I give him a thankful smile before pulling it over to me to drink from and I smile. It's perfectly silky and it has just the right amount of sweetness to it, I think.

I push it back over to him and he picks up a wet pickle from the parchment of the basket that he sticks in his mouth. I yawn and rest my head on my arms that lay on the clean counter, "So, in this future where you're from did you ever meet my future self?" Paul asks quietly so somebody won't hear and think he's on something or possibly delusional.

I tilt my head to see him wiping his mouth with a napkin after he set the last bite of his burger in the basket littered with pieces of tomato, lettuce, pools of burger grease and slices of pickle. Little does he know that he'll be abandoning this greasy meat as well as all other kinds in the next decade. I don't think I could ever do that; give up meat to become vegetarian. I really do love animals, but it'd be hard as well as expensive to cut out meat from my diet. I remember being surprised when I found out that Paul is a vegetarian in one of those first weeks after I had discovered the harmonies of the Beatles and their impressive guitar playing, and Ringo's drumming too.

"I don't think I should tell you if I have or haven't." I tell him and he frowns.

"Ah come on, how much hurt will it do if you tell me?" he complains and I sigh. Those doe eyes are awfully hard to resist at times.

"Wait, are the Beatles still playing in 2012?" he inquires with a wary look and I almost laugh.

"Now that is off limits for us to speak to about." I respond and he shakes his head with a look of 'aw shucks, I was almost there'.

"How about you just answer my question before with a plain yes or no?" he suggests and I nod my head.

"Does that nod of your head mean you have met me in the future?" his confusion comes through. I knew that the minute we got on to any topic about the future he'd have a hard time understanding it.

"No, I haven't met you in the future," I reveal. "And I probably never will." I mumble the last part under my breath as he turns back to his milkshake. I've always wanted to see his future-seventy-year-old-self in concert but where I live he only comes there on tour every twenty years, it seems.

In the simplest of words it's frustrating as well as disappointing, but now I've forgotten about all of that because now I'm in a way living in the dream. I get to see him every day now as I'm somehow here and things are happening that I never would of thought were possible to actually happen. Paul looks to me and flashes me a toothy smile before crossing his eyes and sticking his pink tongue out at me. I laugh and he does too with his smirking lips before sighing and his eyes dart back over to me and he winks at me.

"Here, have it. I'm so full and I should be heading back to the studio too. Sadly." he comments as he nudges the basket over to me with the smile fading from his lips; a pair that I've kissed before which I'm starting to not have such a hard time believing anymore.

"You haven't even been here long. Can't you stay a little longer?" I whine because if he leaves then I have to go back to filling cups and listening to old men rant about some horrible prostate exam they had and how their wife won't pull herself away from her sewing to do her wifely duty in the bedroom.

I was going to tell them that I don't need to know that but I consider myself to be nice and somebody's got to listen to him and the others.

I'd just rather not be that person for the obvious reasons.

"I'd stay, darling, but I have to be getting back. Don't be sad, I'll see you in two hours, promise." he responds and my head leaves his shoulder and I nod my head as I look at the basket of fries that are beginning to turn cold and unappetizing.

"Hey," Paul addresses me and his manly fingers move to my chin to cock my head to meet his eyes that are no longer smiling as much anymore. "Maybe we can do something tonight, alright? Or instead we could just hang out at the flat and beat the other lad's arses at a board game or two. Would you like that?"

"Yeah, I would." I respond and he smiles and says 'good' before pecking me on the lips and dropping his hand from my round chin to dig out his wallet.

"May I have the check, miss?" he turns to me to ask and I nod my head and go behind the counter to get it for him and he glances to the slip of paper I set in front of him.

"Courtney love, can I see you for a minute?" Pearl calls from the kitchen and I look to Paul who hasn't laid out the money for his meal yet.

"Go. I'll see you in just a little bit, after we're both done with work. Try to take some enjoyment from talking to those old geezers who are about to go senile and walking around delivering food, yeah?" he comments with his deep voice that I by now have quite memorized and his lips turn up in a smile.

I smile back before turning around to find Pearl laughing with Marty who holds a spatula in one hand as his booming laughs echoes off of the walls of the warm kitchen.

"Yeah, what do you need, Pearl?" I ask her and Marty returns to the eggs that sizzle and pop in the banged up pan set on the hot stove. She turns to me and I see a figure walk in the back door behind her who has greased back dark hair and a chiseled facial structure; Robbie?

**AN: Oooo. Well, thoughts? Please don't be so shy! **


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: Well get ready for something kind of big. Read on to find out what it is, and tell me what you think of it, if you want! **

"Oh, hi, love. Would you uh mind doing the dirty dishes for me while I take care of the front?" she requests and I shake my head with a fake smile and she leaves for the front as I grab the dish towel that is hanging on a hook by the sink. I move all of the dishes to one side of the two part sink and then I turn on the tap as I hear Marty and who must be Robbie exchange small hellos.

I grab the dish detergent that I squirt into the running water as his footsteps are heard behind me and I keep my mouth shut. I know that he apologized, and that I was maybe willing to forgive him but now that I'm back here and he's here things feel different. And not in a good way. I'm afraid again. I see the chance to leave for a moment while the warm water is taking its sweet time to fill up the deep sink and I find about the same customers sitting at the counter talking amongst themselves and I glance over to where Paul and I were just sitting; his spot is empty. The receipt and a bill sat on top of it as well as some change sits on top of it and I pick it up to place it in the cash register. Something written on the slip of paper catches my eye. I smile when I see it. There's a total on the bottom and most people write how much of a tip they gave and then the grand total. I'm not sure how much of a tip is the norm for this time and I don't really know the terms of money here in England, but Paul seemed to add a really nice tip along with this note:

"**_What a fabulous waitress! She must be the kindest one you have and she sure does do a great job working as a waitress. I'll definitely be coming back more, all because of her! You have delicious food too!_**" his somewhat familiar scrawling reads and I smile big and bright at his kind compliment that was nice to see, and of course he drew a little face next to the small note.

I stick the money in the cash register and I stick the receipt in the small basket along with all of the others before I return to the kitchen where I find quiet Robbie stirring dough in a metal bowl. I walk around him to the sink that is opposite of him, thank goodness, to shut off the tap and I stick my hands into the warm water that is full of bubbles. I find a slippery dish in the sink full of water that I proceed to wash with the clean washcloth I drenched with the hot water.

"Hey, Courtney." Robbie quietly greets me and I turn around with the dish still in my hands to see him standing there with his hands as well as cream apron covered in flour.

"Hi." I respond before returning to the sink full of dishes that I tackle with the want to have them clean and done with so I can get out of here.

I bided my time washing those dirty dishes with the coffee mugs, plates, plastic glasses and plenty of silverware too.

"Hey, long time no see. Do you uh think we could talk? There's some things I want to say to you." Robbie comments after he had walked up to me without my knowing as I fill salt shakers at the counter away from customers.

"I'm busy right now. I can't really talk." I excuse myself from enduring more awkward moments and I see him nod with a dull look before I hear his leaving footfall and I'm left with the boring task of pouring salt into the shakers. How fun.

When the clock struck four o'clock I hung up my apron and left without a goodbye to Pearl or anybody else for that matter because I didn't want to be in the same room or let alone building as Robbie. Those few words we spoke to each other were plenty enough for me. I didn't care that Paul or somebody he sent to pick me up isn't yet here, but I didn't want to be in there any longer and so I stepped foot outside to brace the fall air. I slip on the black sweater I brought along and I travel over to stand next to the closed door leading into the diner as I watch old fashioned cars pass by with people who look like they just walked off the set of Mad Men because of the way they're dressed and done up with their hair and choice of jewelry. The swoosh of the door opening meets my ears and I look to see Robbie walk towards me and I exhale a frustrated sigh. Can't he just give up?

"I know that you don't want to speak to me, and that it's probably the least thing you want to do right now, but I'm not going to leave until you let me speak." he announces as his shiny leather jacket is wrapped around his manly figure.

"Fine, speak then."

"I'm sorry for what happened the other day. And I really do mean it. I have a horrible temper and I regret how I took it out on you." he apologizes as the slight wind carries my still long hair to flap against my neck.

"Do you really regret it? Anybody can say sorry, but it comes down to if they do mean it."

"I just said that I do and I do." he insists and I look away from his sharp eyes to see a car pull up to the curb and I didn't look to the person driving and how I've sat in that car a number of times before.

"Can you forgive me? I'd like to be friends and maybe even more than that." he comments and my head snaps to look at him with a taken aback look. He must be joking with me.

"Court, lets-," Paul's soft voice calls out from the rolled down window of his car and he stops in mid sentence. "What are you doing here talking to her?" he demands and I look to see him turn off the car and get out to walk up to the two of us.

"I'm just trying to reconcile things, is all." Robbie explains as he holds up his hand in an innocent looking manner. Yeah because he's so damn innocent.

"Oh, is that so? I'm sure that's what you're trying to bloody do. Leave her alone. She doesn't want to speak to you and I don't want you to either," Paul addresses him with a bold voice accompanied by his stern look. "I can't believe you still have a job here, and even more that you have the nerve to speak to her again."

"So she told you then?" Robbie asks then with a straight face, not in a sarcastic manner or anything. I suddenly realize that my stomach has grown tense and is filling me with a wave of nausea.

"Yeah, she did. We are together after all, if you didn't already know." Paul remarks and I look from him to Robbie who share a hardy stare and I see Robbie's pale hand curl into a fist. No, this isn't going to happen again and I'm not going to let Paul get hurt; because of me.

"Paul, lets just go, okay? Shouldn't we be going somewhere?" I gently grab his arm that I give a pull, but he doesn't move an inch.

"I swear if you-."

"The both of you, just stop it! Please can we leave?" I plea with Paul as some fear leaks from my voice while my stomach continues to bother me and give me a bad feeling. I've only seen a little of what hot-tempered-Robbie can do, but I don't want to put this man who I deeply care about in harm for this other guy to potentially swing a fist at.

Paul snaps his head to look at me and I see his tense face soften and he slips his arm from the grasp of my hand and takes my hand in his. I look down to our intertwined fingers as a lady with a dog and a little kid pass us and I see her glance to us with a puzzled look showing on her aged face before she looks away to tend to the little boy who is talking away about something. Paul looks to Robbie once more, "You better leave her alone. I don't wanna hear anymore about you speaking to her or bothering her." he declares and then he turns to walk over to the car with me behind him and we file into the automobile.

I don't bother to look at Robbie who I know hasn't moved from the spot where his feet are firmly planted and Paul brings the car to a smooth start and he leaves the curb as we both are silent. By now both of his hands are on the wheel and I pick at the hem of my skirt and I feel the nausea in the pit of my stomach fade as we get farther and farther away from Robbie. We stop at a light behind a few cars as my stomach still doesn't feel right; I had that stomach feeling that something bad was going to happen and I'm glad that we got out of there before anything could. The light turns and Paul speeds down the street and I glance over to see his right elbow sitting on the car door as his hand is pressed to his cheek and he does not look pleased. I look away and I rest my head against the cool window that gives me some relief as he drives and the silence is no comfort to me. We soon pull up to Abbey Road Studios where I've been before, very briefly, and I follow Paul inside and past the hysterical fans who are causing my ears to ring. We enter to find the place buzzing with the ringing of phones, people walking around and I find that I can't ignore my heavy stomach that I feel as if will turn on me any second.

"Paul, I need to use the bathroom. I feel like I'm going to be sick." I announce as he walks next to me with a silent manner about him and I notice his eyebrows fall before he takes my hand and hurries me down the hall where I see two doors beside each other with the little figures on them; the left shows the stick figure in a dress.

I push that door open and my clammy hand lets go of his, "Do you want me to come with you?" his words spill from his lips and I reply with a sudden 'no' as I enter the first empty stall. I sink to my knees and gag into the dirty toilet boil that revolts me at the thought of how many women have used this stall. I gag once more as I hear the hum of a dryer for wet hands and then it's silence and I'm resting my back and head against the partition separating the stall I sit in that I didn't bother to lock and the one that is behind me. I look to the toilet and I push down the lever without looking at the damage I did and I push the bangs that were matted to my sweaty forehead back. I reach forward to rip off a couple of squares of the toilet paper and I wipe my mouth with it. How disgusting. I toss it in the trash in the back corner and I bring my knees to my chest to wrap my tired arms around them as my head feels heavy, but my stomach now feels normal even though it's empty. I tilt my head to the side and rest my cheek on my bare knee and I feel the need to cry, but no tears come.

"Court?" Paul's voice penetrates my silent thoughts and I hear a knock on the closed door of the ladies room I sit in and I huff. I let go of my legs to get up from the dirty floor and I walk over to the old sinks and I splash the coldest of water I could get from the tap on my warm face. That's a little better. I carelessly wipe my wet face with the sleeve of my sweater and I walk over to the door to find Paul leaning against the wall a few steps away with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh, love, how are you feeling? Are you alright?" he asks in a hurried manner and I shrug my shoulders loosely before he pulls me in for a hug whether I want one or not, but I do. I let my head nuzzle into the crook of his neck and I exhale a tired sigh.


	26. Chapter 26

"Maybe I should just drop you off at the flat so you can stay there and get some rest while we record, 'cause otherwise you'd just have to sit for a few hours watching us record." Paul suggests as his one hand is resting on my back and then it lifts to make lazy movements on my shaky back.

"I'd rather be with you where you are." I confess into his shoulder as I have this horrible taste in my mouth.

"We just have three more takes to do and then we'll be done, okay?" he draws away to make eye contact with me as his hands haven't left me and I nod. "I'm sorry you aren't feeling well, darling, but I'll get you a 7UP to help with your stomach and hopefully you won't get sick again."

I don't feel like talking so I nod my head again and he draws me into him for another hug and I close my eyes when my skin meets his soft shirt that smells of his cologne and thickly of smoked cigarettes; his familiar smell. I feel his fingers comb my hair softly and he kisses my hair as his hands is making miles on my back, "I'm not all that sorry for what happened back at the diner. I am sorry for scaring you, sweetheart, but I wasn't going to let the bastard run his mouth or lay a finger on you again. He's a filthy one, he is." Paul quietly comments into my ear as I feel the tip of his shoe against my own.

"He said that he wanted to be friends with me again, and that he also wanted more than that." I reveal into his soft shirt after thinking about how much good it would telling him. I hear him groan.

"Man, he's sick. It's hard to believe he would think that he had a shot at being mates with you again after what happened, and even more that he actually thought about asking you on a date. Ah, I wanted to say so much more, Court." he remarks as my breathing is now regular and my head doesn't feel so heavy.

"I saw him bunch up his fist, Paul. I was afraid he was going to hit you or hurt you."

He pulls out of the hug and he shoots me a warm smile that rekindles my scared heart and he caresses my cheek for a small second, "I'm fine, darling, and if something would've happened I would've made sure you were okay before anything else. Okay, I am angry about what happened with that idiot and now it stinks that you're sick, but things are okay. Yeah?"

"Yeah, they're okay." I agree and his hand slips down to take mine and he pulls me along to start walking down the hall.

"Lets get you a different job, yeah?"

"Yes, please. I'm really sick of doing dishes and having to listen to old geezers rambling on about weird things." I comment and he snickers and smiles before looking down the hall.

"I don't blame ya. Although I was starting to think that it was becoming our own little spot, but we can always find somewhere else. There's plenty of places around and ones that don't have burgers that cover my fingers in grease when I eat them." he remarks and I laugh and he gives my no longer clammy hand a squeeze and we take a turn to find a door labeled 'Studio 2'.

Paul opens the door and pulls me into the empty control room where the table area around the music controls to play with on tracks of music sit open packs of cigarettes carelessly taking up space there, white tea cups that still have some of the brown liquid in them or just a ring of it at the bottom, and then I spot a yellow pencil next to a composition notebook. He pulls me along towards the door and down the steep flight of stairs where we find the other three members of the Beatles waiting with their instruments.

"We were almost going to start without ya, mate! Where have you been?" John inquires as he turns a guitar pick in his fingers while his black Rickenbacker is under his arm.

"Uh, we hit a few bumps in the road on the way over." Paul explains with his words faltering at first.

"Is that all, son?" John asks with a wink and I don't bother to roll my eyes or shake my head because I'm so just tired and exhausted.

"Yeah, John, that was all." he retorts and I let go of Paul's hand to take a chair over on the side as he grabs his instrument to tune up before they started into a loud set of songs that just bothered my ears. I've found that sound has always bothered me when I'm not feeling well.

I rest my head on the back of the metal chair that sends a much appreciated cool rush into my body and I look to Paul who flashes me a small smile that I do my best to return before I let my eyes flutter shut as the murmur of their voices lull me into a sleep. I don't know how I slept in that slumped position with their loud voices and them playing that echoed music in the purposely acoustic room, but I did and it gave me some relief.

* * *

"Darling, hello? Courtney?" Paul's soft voice wakes me up and I lift my head and open my eyes to see him crouching down in front of me as I feel his fingers on my cheek.

"Oh. Did I fall asleep?" I ask since I didn't try to drift off. He nods with a small grin.

"Yeah, somehow you did with our loud playing. You know, I'd usually take it as an insult that a bird fell asleep when I was singing and playing guitar, but I know that you aren't feeling well so I'll let you off this one time." he remarks as his hazel eyes are boring into mine I smile sleepily and he brushes the hair off of my forehead before I sit up.

"Woah." I mumble as I suddenly feel very light headed and I see Paul grow concerned as my hand is to my forehead.

"I-I'm fine." I assure him and I see him nod now with a less worried look and then he holds out his hand that I take.

I stand up on my own as he has a firm grasp on my hand and I look around to see the place empty and a light dimmed as he leads me over to the stairs. He catches the light to send the area into darkness and I look back to see the dark jacket walking in front of me as his hand is sticking out from his back as I hold it. Paul waves to a man in the control room who is dressed sharply as we travel through the it to the dark hall we were just in what seemed awhile ago.

"So, how long was I asleep for?" I question as I walk by his side down the lit hall where things are calm and quiet.

"Two hours. I looked to you after awhile when I saw the lads giving you odd looks, but they were polite and all. I called your name once or twice and when you didn't react I almost thought you had gone on me." he mumbles and I hear the slight sarcasm in his voice at the end as I try to rub the sleep from my eyes that kept them shut those last two hours.

"You know, you're kind of cute when you worry." I joke with it hinting in my voice and I see him smirk as his reddening cheeks plump up due to the smile as we round a corner and walk out a door he holds open to meet the cold darkness.

Paul stays silent as we walk across the empty stretch of sidewalk to his idle car sitting in the parking spot with the wheels turned to the left, and I let go of his hand to get into the car.

"I'm sorry that I dozed off." I apologize once he had gotten in the car and I see a grin appear on his lips.

"You don't need to apologize, darling. I hope the sleep has helped and that you're feeling better, even a little bit is better than nothing." he responds as he gets out his keys to stick into the ignition and he turns to look at me with a pleasant look playing on his blessed features.

"I kind of ruined the fun night we were supposed to have together, haven't I?" I suspect aloud as he looks in the rearview mirror to back out.

"No you haven't. Why are you so worried that you have?"

"Because it feels like I have." I respond and I turn to stare out the window as things start to pass by faster and faster as Paul speeds up.

We soon arrive at their apartment and I follow Paul up the dark steps and he opens the door to the bright flat where I hear a few voices and the strumming of a guitar. The other guys must of left before Paul and I, well obviously. Now I kind of wish I hadn't had fallen asleep, because now I'm confused, I admit.

"Hey, look who's up!" John exclaims from the doorway of the kitchen as I shut the door behind myself and I see Paul shoot him a glare that John does notice.

"Yeah. Hi, John." I respond as I slip off my shoes to clatter onto the wood floor next to the pile of shoes that sit against the wall on a dirty mat.

"Love, do you uh want anything to eat? I was gonna make a sandwich for meself.." Paul trails off and then stops himself mid sentence. "I reckon you probably aren't up for food, right?"

I nod my head as Paul enters the kitchen and my eyes follow John who is throwing on a coat over by the door, "I'm going out, lads. No need to wait up for me like you're my bloody parents, alright?" John calls to Paul and George who minds himself over on the couch with his acoustic in his arms.

"No getting into any fist fights at the pub, yeah?" Paul replies in a booming voice as I don't know where to go, or where to stand as my feet are planted here with my hands folded over my waist.

"I'll try me hardest not to, but I'm not going to make promises! You know what happened that last time I did!" John remarks loud enough for us all in different rooms to hear him before the door flies open and his figure melts into the darkness.

"Paul?" I call to him.

"You can just go lay in me bed if you want, love. I'm almost done making this and then I'll meet you up there with a 7UP for you." he bellows in return and I start for the stairs and my eyes meet with George's dark pair who smiles at me and I return it before placing a foot on the stairs.

I sigh as I remove my sweater to toss on the top of the open box of clothes and I slip off my socks before falling onto Paul's spongy bed as I'm beginning to feel the effects of sleeping in that chair with my back aching in places and my neck giving me a tough time. I take in a breath as I move to find the perfect spot and I close my eyes before I feel something hard beneath the pillow. I lift my head and open my closed eyes to bring out a little notebook and I flip on the lamp to learn that it's blue with a pencil stuck on a page.

I open to the page marked by the pencil the length of my finger to find what looks to be a journal entry labeled Sep 20 1963 and my eyes flit to the curving writing below a silly drawing:

**_Courtney. That's her name. I met her today and I just had to write this down, afraid that I'll forget it. She's quite the sight she is, and a mystery too. One that I have this wanting to solve and figure out. She's not like other girls and_**...

"What's that?" Paul's own voice interrupts my reading and I look up at him in shock as I hold the item in my hands, not to mention that it's also open. He had to have seen me reading it and I notice him look from the notebook to my eyes as he holds a plate with his sandwich on it and a glass bottle of 7UP, for me.

"Paul, I didn't mean to, I swear. I was going to lay down and I-." I begin with an apologetic look before he cuts me off. Did I just stumble onto unwanted territory?

**AN: Thoughts? I hope you're liking it!**


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Hey, guys! Thank you so much for the reviews you left me about the last part, I loved reading them! I'm so glad that you guys are looking forward to the next part after that little cliffy I left you with, so I thought I'd update today. I hope you like it and by the way this part is kind of the beginning of some big things happening. Feel free to leave your thoughts on this part, if you want. Enjoy! **

I see him smile friendly and then set the sandwich and drink on his dresser before walking over and I hand it to him, "You're acting like you found my little black book with all of my dirty secrets in it." he comments and I grow puzzled.

"I uh thought that I maybe had on accident."

"Oh, is that why you were so eager to read it?" he questions with his eyebrows raised as he smirks a huge one.

"No. I wasn't eager to read it for one and-."

"I'm just joking with you, darling. It's not my black book full of my secret escapades or anything, or a bloody diary like girls keep. It's just a notebook I have handy if I come up with some lyrics in the morning or at night, I've also drawn in there when I've gotten bored, and jotted a few things down too." he reveals with a smile that isn't ashamed or embarrassed and I see him look down at the page the notebook is turned to and his eyes go a little big.

"And you have it under your pillow?"

He looks up and nods once with a soft laugh flowing from his full lips as it sits in his pale hands that have some of the downy, black hair that covers his arms in a forest of it, "Well I did have it hid in a better spot that was less obvious, mind you. I stuck it back there after I jotted some lyrics down, but yeah isn't that where people stash their little keepsakes away, under their pillow?"

"I've only ever kept my Bible under there, or I did as a kid, but it would always bug me because of the weird feeling." I comment and he grins and then sighs as he skims through the page and then he looks back to me.

"You didn't happen to read the whole page, did you?"

"No. I only got a few sentences read before you came in and caught me red handed with it." I answer and I see him rub his eyes that are beginning to look tired.

"Whew," he responds as he pretends to wipe a drop of sweat from his forehead that is mostly hidden by his thick hair. "That's good you only got that far."

"Oh, really? Is that because you have some naughty things written down on that page, mister?" I tease while scooting over to try and look over his shoulder at the still open book, but of course he snaps it shut. I frown at him as he continues to smirk giddily.

"No, no, no, of course not. But I am going to hide it in a much better spot so you won't find it again." he responds and he stands from the springy bed while closing it and I huff.

"What, why not? If it doesn't have bad stuff or secretive things in there, then why can't I read it?"

"Well you wouldn't let me read your personal diary, now would you?" he inquires as he half faces me.

"I don't keep a diary, so that's out of the question."

He grins and then his eyebrows raise, "But still, I'm sure you had one at a time, and you wouldn't be comfortable having me read it with me own eyes, correct?"

"Yeah, fine. I guess not." I respond with a defeated sigh and he winks at me before tossing it into one of the drawers of his dresser. I do want to read the rest of that page that was about me, but there's no way I'm going through his drawers.

"See."

I sigh and sink back into the bed to have my head fall onto the pillow and I close my eyes before I feel his warm fingertips brushing my stray hairs off of my forehead and I open my eyes to see him sitting beside me.

"Are you still feeling under the weather, love? You know, I'm no doctor but your head does feel a bit warm." he asks and I sigh.

"Paul, I'm okay. I'm sure that it isn't a bug of any kind and that it's just from stress. I had it happen back in high school after I finished finals. I should be right as rain in the morning." I assure him and he nods after a second of building himself up to believe me.

He leaves my side again to grab his sandwich that I admit looks mighty good with the ham, black olives and onions it has on it, but I just stuck with the fizzy soda I sipped slowly as he ate his tiny meal sitting up against the wall.

* * *

"Do you want me to get you anything?" he questions as he chews on a toothpick while he stands near the door holding his plate that is empty except for the few crumbs the hungry guy didn't clean off.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks for asking though." I respond and he nods his head and turns for the door before his look shifts and he looks back to me as I lay down with the covers over my tired body.

"You don't mind if I go hang out George downstairs for awhile, do you?"

"No, Paul, of course not. I'm just going to try and fall asleep again, so I'd be a real boring party compared," he grins. "Alright, if you say so, darling. If you need me just holler." he responds kindly.

I nod my head in a silent understanding before he flips off the light and quietly shuts the door behind him. I exhale and turn over to face the empty wall that he's laid against before as we spoke in the morning or late at night. I see his smiling face at one of those times glued to my eyelids as the silence covers me in it's blanket and the darkness brings it all together. I think of his friendly smile before I drift off into a dreamless sleep as my back side aches and my stomach feels unsure to me. What a day it has already been, and it's not nearly over yet.

* * *

I slowly wake up later on to find darkness surrounding me even more and I reach my arm over to turn on the lamp and I notice a plastic bucket sat by the bed in case I get sick again, Paul must of brought it up while I was sleeping. I toss the covers back to walk into the dark hall and I suddenly hear voices that I at first thought I was maybe hearing since I just woke up, but I here them again. They're coming from downstairs, I realize.

"Is she still asleep up there?" a sharp voice that I recognize to be John's speaks and I tip toe over to the stairs and I take a seat on one of the first few steps from the top. Am I this 'her'?

"I suppose, even though it's been quite awhile. She needs it though." Paul responds in his smooth voice.

"Oh is Paulie sad that he doesn't get to spend the night with his bird Courtney?" John mocks in his teasing tone as I eavesdrop even though I feel the guilt in my gut at doing so.

"Oh, shut your trap, John." he returns in a voice that doesn't sound angry to me. Somebody sighs and then whistles for a minute and I tuck my hair to behind my ear.

"So. . what were these bumps in the road that made you lot run late earlier? You never did tell what they were, you know." John asks in a balanced tone and I let my head rest on the wall to my left.

"Well, do you remember that bloke Robbie I told you about the other day?"

"Sure, he was that guy who came to the door and sounded like a softie apologizing when you could hear the lying in his voice." John responds to Paul's question as I play with the frayed hem of my skirt and I look to the white washed walls of the hallway that extend just a few more steps down.

"Yeah, that one. About him, Court ran into him at work-."

"But didn't you stop there for lunch or whatever, so why didn't you do something about it then?"

"Come on, John, let me bloody finish," Paul replies in a tone that you would think would be mad but isn't to John's words that cut into his. I feel like John would make a goofy face at Paul right about now. "Yeah yeah, go on then." John responds as the after effects of sleep leave my system.

"Anyways, he wasn't there when I had lunch but he obviously came in after since he was there trying to speak to her when I went to pick her up. He wouldn't leave her alone and we kind of got into it 'cause he was being a dickhead to her."

"How so?" John asks for a sort of explanation and I look behind me to the hallway expecting to see Ringo or George who must be out or something. I wonder what time it is.

"Well he kept on bugging her and trying to make things alright again, and then she told me that he wanted to be even more than friends with her," John lets an amused chuckle escape his lips then. "He wouldn't back down either, and I tell ya I would've said plenty more but by then she was kinda getting freaked out by it all so we left. And then she got sick when we arrived at the studios, hence why she's been asleep for the last few hours."

"She seems like a kind of tough girl, so what would she be getting freaked out by?"

"The possibility of hits being taken again; and not just her, but me too." Paul responds and I hear one of them yawn as I sit alone here in the darkness, finally feeling rested and no longer nauseous like earlier.

"Aww isn't that just sweet? She cares about little ol' you and what happens to you. Aren't you and her just the perfect pair?" John teases. "But you must remember that you haven't even known her a bloody week!"

"Would you quit bringing that up? You've only mentioned it twenty damn times! I know that she's been here almost a week, and so what if she has? I still like her, and care about her, and she's a great girl, you must admit. Well maybe you would know if you set aside ten minutes to try and get to know her." Paul retorts and he groans and I hear the squeaking of floor boards. I hurry to stand up and I shuffle up the steps to hide against the wall, but the steps just fade away instead of coming closer.

"She's your girlfriend or whatever you two are calling each other these days, not mine." John calls out as I think about the things they're saying; they're all about me.

I notice that Paul doesn't respond and the whistling returns after it left a bit ago, "She is from America, you know!" John notes loudly.

"Yes, I know that perfectly well. But what does it have to do with anything?" Paul responds and I hear his voice get louder as if he left a room to return to the living room where the two must be.

"You don't like her just 'cause of her accent, do yah?"

"No, but it's a pretty fantastic accent, don't you think?" Paul responds and I hear the smile in his voice as I strain to hear their words from my stance at the top of the stairs.

"You were about to say 'sexy' instead of fantastic, huh?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Paul replies and they both chuckle softly and then they both fade to random sighs.

I hear the hum of the heating, a sound that isn't so strange to me since I used to lay in bed back home listening to it until I fell asleep, "We can't do this whole living arrangement for long, you know, Paul. We're getting even more famous 'round the world and we're going to be traveling plenty more. We could go to America soon, mate!" John notes. I almost forgot their touring and how they were gone so much from home because of it.

"I know, John, something will be figured out," my face falls at his words that sound like he agrees with John completely, almost. "I'm not just going to leave her here though, since she doesn't know the town or hell the country."

"She can't come with, Paul." John notes in a bold voice that I remember hearing in interviews when he seemed uncomfortable or even more, irritable.

"What is it that you have against her, huh? She never did anything to you or picked a fight with you! I like her and if you have a problem with that then tough luck." Paul replies and I can't help to smile at hearing his defensive words that stick up for me. I've never had a guy or hardly anyone stick up for me like Paul.

He's been a lot of firsts for me.


	28. Chapter 28

I wait to hear for a word to come from either of them for a moment as silence takes place in my ears before being flushed out, "I don't have anything against her."

"You're not fooling anybody with that line, John. Just fess up, son." Paul scolds and I consider to walk away so I won't have to hear them argue, something that has to do with me.

"I really don't, honest. But maybe I'm just looking out for the lass."

"Looking out for her?! Since when do you care about anybody other than yourself, us lads and Brian? That's how it's been for years, and you can't deny it!" Paul retorts while I imagine Paul standing in front of the older John sitting on the sofa as the words are being shot at each other.

"I know how it may be such a big surprise to you, but yeah maybe I do care about her, a tiny bit. You weren't the one having to escort girls those mornings after they stayed in your bed and found you gone the next morning 'cause you took the coward way out and left so you wouldn't have to tell them to leave. . . not that I cared about them or anything."

"Oh, so are you thinking that I'm going to do the same thing to Courtney?" the man who I didn't want to, but have grown fond of this last nearly week speaks in a lower voice.

"She's hardly an adult, and it's obvious that she's naive! She follows you around like one of our fans who is mesmerized by you paying attention to her, and acting like you like her!"

"Acting?! You think I've been bloody acting all this time?" Paul yells and I get up from the steps to walk to his pitch black bedroom as I don't know how to feel.

I wish that I had never heard a word of what they said, because now my mind is running and I don't know what to do other than sulk in his bedroom until I see it safe to test the battle fields downstairs. I flick my hair over my shoulder and their loud voices come through the closed door and I feel the goosebumps form on my arms. I always would grow scared from hearing my parents scream at each other like they did, and now this feels like just about the same situation, in a way. I sigh and stare into the darkness as their voices reverberate off the thin walls and I slip off of the bed to crack open the door to hear silence. Nothing but it. Just the hum of the heating ducts reclaiming their place to be heard and I take a step towards the stairs that sounds ten times louder than they actually are. I hesitantly take another. And another, and another, and another until I'm standing on the stairs and can see into the living room that sits the two moody men. Paul sits in a chair near the fireplace, facing me, as John is sat on the couch like I thought with his back facing me. I lift my foot from the step that makes a noise and Paul's mop top lifts to spot me standing on the stairs and he forces a smile.

"Hey, darling. When'd you wake up?" he asks and John doesn't bother to give me even a look, but instead stalks off to the kitchen. Thanks for the hello.

"Um just a minute ago." I decide to tell him a fib and I move my feet over to him to sit in the chair beside him while he looks tired. I glance to the clock that reads nine o'clock.

He looks down to his lap as he fiddles with the cuffs of his dress shirt that he always seems to be wearing some style or color of. I wonder if he ever gets sick of having to wear a suit almost every day, one after the other, "So, are you feeling better at all?" he looks up to ask and when I nod I see his face loosen oddly.

"That's good to hear. Are you hungry at all, love?"

"Yeah, I am actually." I respond and he smiles, but then I watch it fade even though I wish it would've stayed in front of my eyes.

I see him look away for a moment as his eyebrows are squished together while he appears to be thinking and then his light eyes dart back to me and I suddenly wonder what else him and John yelled about after I wandered away, "How about you go freshen up and then we'll go somewhere, yeah?"

"But, Paul, it's nine o'clock." I object, but my words don't phase him in the slightest.

"Oh just go on and do whatever girls do to get ready, and meet me back down here." he insists with good intentions coating his words and one corner of his mouth turns up into a half smile. I have always loved that smile, and the way it can bring one onto my own lips.

"Okay, I guess I will then. But what's the trick you have under your sleeve?" I joke with him as I make my way away from him to the hall and he just laughs before leaving the chair and I see his face fall and the smile disappear before he fully leaves my field of vision.

I frown myself as I travel to the bathroom and I wash my face, do a good job of brushing my teeth, I also run a brush through my hair before I put some lotion on and look over my clothes that are now all wrinkled so I decide to head upstairs quickly to change into a black dress of Cyn's that buttons down to my midriff, has short sleeves and has a girly kind of collar. Even though it seems to be all dresses and pencil skirts here in the sixties I do like some of their fancy wardrobe, I have to admit. I take a once over of my appearance in the mirror before I close the door behind me and I shuffle down the stairs to find Paul leaning against in the wall now in a blazer as I fasten the last few buttons on my sweater. I flash him a smile that he musters in a small return before he politely opens the door for us to have us meet the night air.

"Aren't we going in the car?" I ask Paul after he didn't go for the driver side and he looks to me at his side as his hands are casually in his pockets.

"No. We're just going around the corner for dinner, love. It's a shame they don't deliver since they're close... So, do you fancy pizza at all? You know, the Italian special." Paul comments and I almost laugh at his comment. From where I'm from everybody likes pizza, but I guess the greasy classic hasn't made much of an impact in the 60's yet, or at all.

"Yeah, I love it. I didn't know that you like pizza."

"Usually I'm not the largest fan of it, but this place we're on our way to has great pies with some great toppings." he comments and I smile at him instead of nodding or coming up with some pointless response and his eyes trail away from me as I still can see the far away look they have in them. Something is wrong, they're must be.

"Paul, is-." I begin.

"Here we are then. Come on now, we have to go find us a spot." he interrupts and acts as if he didn't hear what I was trying to say as we approach the double doors of a restaurant that looks to be a few floors. He holds the door open for the both of us to have us step foot into the festive Italian place where the smell of garlic and plenty others are wafting through the air.

An employee arrives and Paul says we'll be sitting upstairs which I found odd since a host or hostess usually seats the guests, and we just walk off, "What was that?" I ask Paul and he grabs my calm hand to pull me along with him over to a staircase that leads up to a second floor where booths are as the wooden walls are covered with paintings and framed pictures. Wow.

"It's how they do things here. They leave menus on the tables and then somebody comes to wait on you. They have such a long list of drinks here, it's gear." he comments and he whistles after the words fade from his lips while I feel his hand in mine and soon our fingers tangle with the other's.

"How about this one?" he mumbles, seemingly to himself and not to me and he leads us to a booth with red vinyl on the seats. He lets go of my hand to take a seat on the opposite side so I decide to sit across from him.

He still whistles a strange tune with his pink lips forming an 'O' as he picks up the menu sat in front of him and I look down to grab mine as he taps his foot on the floor. He just always has to be doing something, doesn't he? I look over the few pages that list breadsticks, soups, dishes of spaghetti, ravioli, lasagna, and then a whole section is devoted to pizza. They all have these corky names to them and I close the menu and leave the deciding of the food to him since he'll probably know what to get. It sounds as if he has been here after all. I look down at my wrists covered by the red fabric of this one certain sweater that is a bit itchy, but otherwise all comfy and cozy. I suddenly hear a bout of laughter and a flow of voices that follow it, but I don't lift my head to look. I do raise my eyes to see Paul glancing around to the rest of the second floor that only extends on this half while more is happening on the first floor, all while he rubs his thumb against the bottom of his lip. I've noticed him doing that several times; habit maybe. He glances back to his menu that sits opened in front of him, but he doesn't meet my eyes that sit on him. He must know that I'm looking at him not so inconspicuously like I'm trying to come across as, right? He isn't mad at me, is he?

"P-." I decide to break this silence that is growing nearly unbearable, but Paul's lips part at the same time as mine.

"I was going to-," he laughs at us interrupting each other and I softly do too, but it then fades and I look to the shiny table. "Darling, what's the matter? Are you still not feeling all that well?" he questions and I look up to see his droopy eyes sitting on me.

"No, I'm feeling fine."

"Then what is it, love?" he pries for the answer and before I could answer, even though I don't think I was going to, a waiter comes to take our orders. Thank God.

He leaves after taking down our beverage order; Paul got a Coke mixed with some kind of liquor, I wasn't really listening, and I just decided to get a Pepsi.

"Come on, love, tell me what's bugging you. Is it what happened with Robbie earlier today?" Paul brings his words back to our recent topic of discussion before the waiter stepped in and I look away from my wrists where I was pulling at my bracelets, the ones he had given me, and I look into his eyes that feel like they go on for infinity. Like they could never end.

Just like my hopes for this adventure with him. I don't want it to never end, but each day I feel like I'm somehow getting closer to the day when everything will change will be nothing no more. I'll remember him, possibly, and all of the conversations we've had and the embraces as well as tender moments and what about him? Sure he'll remember, maybe, but-. That's enough, I tell myself as I'm thinking about this too much as I have the privilege of him sitting in front of me, young, and caring about me. He tilts his head and a goofy smile erupts onto his formerly straight lips and I fight to not smile as I'm having all of these thoughts and he stands to extend his hand to me and I take it to walk with him.

**AN: Thanks for the reviews! I'm happy that you're enjoying this story so much! I hope you enjoyed this part. There's more to come! I'd love to hear what you think of it! **


	29. Chapter 29

**AN: Howdy, all! I hope you're all doing wonderfully and that you're having a nice day/night! Thank you for your reviews that you have left me, I'm happy that you're looking forward to this new part! There's some new stuff coming at you in it, but especially in the next part, so I hope you are happy with it! Don't be shy to let me know what you think of it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks and enjoy! **

He pulls me along with him to the stairs and over to the area in back away from tables where a pool table sits in the middle with these yellow lamps hanging from the ceiling over it and a claw machine against the wall.

"Have ya ever played eight ball?" Paul asks and he lets go of my hand to grab a pool cue from the few hanging on the wall.

"No. I'm horrible at games, I always lose." I answer and I watch him turn around to grab the cube of chalk to swivel around on the tip of the cue and I pull a chair over to sit.

"Nah, I bet that isn't true. Come and play me for a bit."

"What about the-." I start to object but I see him shake his head before his mouth opens.

"They're awfully laid back, these people. They don't mind people taking their time ordering, so to speak, and they'll just ask for what we want when we're ready." Paul explains as he sets the small block on the wooden edge of the dark pool table that has soft looking green felt on the inside of the somewhat oval.

I look away to see the walls covered with pea green wallpaper that I don't really think suits the place but the framed pictures make up for it I think, and I also see an Italian flag hanging on the wall next to a door that I assume leads to the kitchen. I glance to to the few tables sat near the steps, away from the booths lining the walls as people sit there laughing with plates of food before them as waiters wiggle their way around the crowds to deliver hot food. My eyes wander back to Paul who had laid the cue on the pool table and I catch him looking at me as one of his hands is sat on the pool balls sat inside the wooden triangle to bring them together. He looks away just as fast as the second he was staring at me and I feel my cheeks involuntarily warm up from blushing and I glance to my feet clad in the simple flats that feel comfortable, but sometimes sweaty.

"You sure you're feeling alright?" Paul asks and I face his eyes that are away from me.

"Yeah." I respond quietly and I stand up from the hard chair to step over to the wall left of Paul to look at the dozens of pictures where some are celebrities who must of visited the place, and then there are newspaper articles, drawings as well as paintings.

I cross my arms over my chest by habit as I silently look them over to see faces in the photographs and brush strokes in the paint as indistinct voices fill my ears to become just some type of background noise to take over silence, "I can tell when you're lying, you know. I've had plenty of practice with John who loves to fib." Paul's seemingly patient voice enters my ears as he walks up and I glance to see him stop at my left.

"You're awfully quiet, why is that?"

"I'm just thinking about things." I respond immediately with the first thing that pops into my head.

"Yeah I'm sure that's why you've been so silent towards me tonight. Did I do something or is it something else entirely?" his softness comes through even though I sometimes notice how he tries to act more tough, especially around people other than me and I consider fessing up to the eavesdropping and how what was said bothers me.

My plans are stopped when I hear excited voices behind me, ones that are much louder than any of the others in this restaurant and we both turn around to see two teenage girls staring at Paul with a hopeful look on their face. I sigh and look to Paul who doesn't seem to know what to think as they approach us in their high dresses and blonde hair flowing from behind them as they bat their unusually long eyelashes that any girl would long to have.

"Paul, hi! We're sorry to bother you, but could we get your autograph and maybe a photo as well?" the one on the left with the pink dress asks as they both are just lit up from the sight of him. I don't blame them though, but I'm just not getting a good vibe from them, so to say.

"Uh, I dunno, loves. I'm kinda busy and-."

"Oh come on, it won't take long. We promise." the other one who has a bow in her hair, like the ones I used to wear when I was five encourages Paul and he glances to me with an off look taking over his looks before they squeal and walk up to take spots at his sides.

They said it'll only take a little bit, and aren't they the biggest liars I've ever met because I've been staring at the damn wall reading the same paragraph of this newspaper clipping of when a house accidentally burned down, for fifteen minutes. I roll my eyes when I hear those girls' giggles as they speak word after word to Paul who replies to them and appears to be loving the attention they're giving him. I peek over at the trio who are all laughing at something somebody must of said and I glance to the one wearing the pink dress who is laughing real loud, like she's faking the laugh or just trying to make it look like she thinks it's funny. Whatever 'it' is. The laughter fades and I look to the two girls' manicured hands that hold these little books that they had Paul sign on the inside and my eyes go big when I see her stand up on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, for the second time. Jealousy flares up inside of me as I see his plump cheeks fill with a blushing red while he smiles and of course she does too. I look back to the black and white article that I pretend to be reading and I turn to see a sign behind them on the wall showing the location of the bathrooms. I look to see them still deep in conversation as eyes are locked within the group and so I scurry off to use the bathroom.

I step out of the stall and walk up to use the sink where I turn on the warm water to wash my hands with the orange soap. I hear the squeak of the wooden door opening and I see a dark headed figure come around the corner and she stops to flash her red lips at me in a smile.

"Girls these days, I tell ya. There's these four out there who won't leave my friends and I alone. My friends are of course two blokes, but I can't even get a word in or eat my pasta in peace while they're laughing away and smacking their gum. Ah for goodness sakes." the black haired girl wearing a black skirt and a striped shirt grumbles in her lovely british accent as I look over her almond eyes and I grin. Join the club.

"I know how you feel." I remark and I turn off the water and walk over to the dryer where I rub my slippery hands together as she removes a black tube of lipstick from her clutch of a purse to open and roll up.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. I hate those kind of girls who think that they can get any guy they want, no matter if he's already taken. I thought I had escaped them for good when I left high school, but they always seem to come back." she remarks while she stares into the mirror and runs the bright red lipstick over her thin lips. I flash her a smile after not knowing what quite to say and she returns it as the short, but curvy lady places the cap back on the makeup.

"You aren't having boy problems too, are you, dear?" she questions after storing it away and I shrug my shoulders, and I see her frown.

"I'm sorry, but I just hope that the man isn't letting it get to his head and forgetting about pretty little you."

"I wish he wasn't, but these two girls just walked up and have been speaking to him for a good fifteen minutes.." I trail off as I'm not sure of my words and she frowns again and pulls me into a small hug that I appreciate.

"Thanks." I tell her after we part and she pats my cheek with a smile as I grin too.

"Anytime, doll. I'm sorry about your man, but now that I've thought about it I'm gonna go get mine back. I think you should do the same thing and kick those birds out of the picture. Go get him back and show him what he's missing!" she encourages and I think of those moments of Paul and I acting like a couple who likes each other that way and how I've truly been almost unsure of that since I heard his fight with John and now ever since.

"I-I don't know. I'm not gutsy like that."

"Oh, just go barge in and give him a good kissing on the lips or give his sweet cheeks a grab, they all love it, you know. They also like it when a girl is in charge and somehow most of them find it cute when a girl is jealous." she eggs me on as well as voicing some suggestions as she wiggles her perfect eyebrows that arch over her brown looking eyes and she inches toward the door before I get to respond.

"Thanks for the nice girl talk, um..."

"It's Izzy, love, and how about you, honey pie?" she replies while her hand that shows red nails holds onto the door handle.

"It's Courtney, and thanks, Izzy. It was nice meeting you." I respond as this newfound courage and energy pulses through my veins and she smiles big, showing her flawed teeth.

"The pleasure was mine, sweetheart." she remarks before walking out the door and leaving me standing in front of the mirror.

I unbutton the sweater to give my plain looking figure some flare before I walk out with the bravery coursing through my limbs and my eyes catch Paul's who look around quickly until they fall on me and I see the relief flood his eyes and his parted lips close. I glance to the two girls who seem to be all over him still and the one in the skimpy pink dress says something to him that gets a bad reaction out of him and he gives her a nasty look before he lifts his feet and travels over to me by the two washrooms.

"Where have you been? I thought I had lost ya!" Paul exclaims the minute he gets close enough to me.

"Well fancy that. I thought that I had lost you too." I shoot back and I see the understanding flow onto his features and the sorry soon fills his eyes.

"Court-. I-I'm sorry, they just came up and we got talking and then I looked over to you were and you were gone. I got worried."

"Yeah, I've heard it all before, Paul. You get distracted by some gorgeous girls who laugh at your jokes and who also flirt with you. It's what you must be used to, am I right?" I retort and I don't bother to hide the frustration in my voice and I turn to walk away, but he shifts his weight to block my way.

"Courtney love, I really am sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen-."

"Don't call me these cute names like I'm not mad at you, because I am as a matter of fact, and I'd really like it if they didn't hear us arguing." I cut him off as he tries to look remorseful and I'm attempting to have him feel the pain I'm feeling about this entire situation.

"Who cares about what they think?"

"I do." I reply before he steps forward and catches me off guard by bringing a hand to my cheek and dipping in to press his lips to mine in a passionate kiss that stops me from saying anymore, and him too.

I hear glass breaking and a frustrated female groan as my eyes are closed and I feel his fingers hiding away in my hair and his strong lips moving in unison with mine.


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: Hey there! Thank you for your reviews and support! It's awesome to know that you're looking forward to the next part a lot! And here it is with some new and stuff that maybe you aren't expecting or are, did tell ya some new stuff is ahead. Anyways I hope you're all well and thanks for still reading. I hope you enjoy it and I'd love to hear from you in a review, if you'd like! **

I then hear some cheering and people whistling as we still kiss and I pull away with a blush to notice people looking at us with almost proud smiles on their faces and I glance back to Paul who shows a large smile on his lips; the pair that I just kissed. He winks at me before I shake my head and glance to the pair of girls still standing in their spot from a few minutes ago, now with angered looks on their faces as they glare at the both of us. Somebody is not happy, and you know, I really don't care whether they are or not. I softly laugh and I grab his hand to pull him off the place where he stands and to the flight of stairs as I keep my head low to avoid looks even though most of them are friendly; they're just admiring a young couple.

"You like to make quite the scene, huh?" I ask him and I feel his warm fingers mingle themselves with my own as we casually march up the stairs and we turn to find our booth that must be the only one with people sat at it on this wall.

He takes my other hand to face him and he cheekily grins and then winks, "I suppose I do, darling," he comments and I blow out my exhalation and glance to the front door where those two ticked off girls exit. "Don't you?"

I shake my head and let go of his hands to slide into the booth and I pull my open bottle of Pepsi over that I cautiously sip on due to my stomach that isn't feeling tossy and turny anymore, but I don't want to be running to a bathroom once again. I let the straw fall from my lips and I set the glass bottle down and I look up to the baby faced man who has ebony hair framing most of his face as his hazel eyes shine bright before me and I feel a corner of my mouth rise into a smile, "You have such a pretty smile, you know." he remarks and I look away with my smile being much larger now.

I fiddle with the rolled up napkin that contains the few items of metal silverware and I see his manly hand creep over to take my wandering hand in his one, "I wanna apologize about the whole deal downstairs. I wish I knew what to say 'cause I get that you're angry at me 'cause of that and something else I'm not sure of. Would you care to enlighten me?"

He gives me a half smile that looks encouraging to me as a light hanging from the ceiling over the booth behind Paul creates almost a yellow halo above his round head with his short hair that will only grow longer in the coming years and I get a flash of the words him and John were practically screaming to each other, ones that were about me. I'm the conflict here. He tips his head to the side with a smile, ah that magical smile that could trick a girl in so many several ways. I sigh and tear my eyes away from his pair that were beginning to melt mine and I glance to our joined hands and I run my thumb along his smooth knuckles riddled with tiny black hairs.

"Tell me, please." he urges and I think how putting this off longer and longer is only going to make the telling part worse and plus he's not going to let it go if I keep pushing it away. But what is this thing that's weighing me down and stealing my happiness?

"I don't really know what to say, what's bothering me," I reveal as I stare at the wooden table and I lift my head to fall into his gaze. "I just keep feeling like I'm bugging you guys and that something isn't right, with us."

"Not this again." he grumbles and his hand slips out from mine to go to his lap as mine still sits there until I bring it to sit on my leg as he doesn't look all too happy.

"Paul, please-."

"No, you can't keep changing your mind like this! I'm on the other side of this, you know, it's not just you, Court!" he retorts boldly as his eyebrows are knitted together and the words come out before I can stop them.

"I heard some of what you and John said earlier, about me, and it was pretty ugly, I thought." I blurt and I see another wave of feelings come over his face. He shakes his head and looks away before speaking himself.

"Oh, so now you're eavesdropping on my conversations, are you?"

"I didn't mean to, Paul. I promise." I tell him to try and save myself but by now he looks far disappointed as well as angry and he stands up to pick up his jacket.

"Yeah, well you know the thing about promises is that they're supposed to be kept, ya see, and I don't see much truth in the one you just made. The flat is around the corner, find your way home when you're ready and when your bloody mind is made up. I'll pay for the drinks, like always, so don't worry about it." he retorts as he slips on his jacket and turns to leave as I open my mouth to say something to stop him but nothing comes out.

I sigh and let my head fall to my arms that had moved to the wooden table and I lay my red head on my freckled limbs.

"Hey, sweet stuff. What're you doing up here all alone by yourself? Where's that dashing man of yours I was hoping to meet?" a minute later a familiar voice speaks and I lift my head to see Izzy strolling up to me and I see her face fall as she gets closer.

"Doll, why're you crying? What's the matter?"

She comes on over to kneel by me and I shake my head as if it's nothing while I wipe my wet cheeks. Can't this disastrous day just be over yet?

"We got in a fight and he uh left." I answer her question softly as my lips move but I feel somewhat numb.

"Ah, I'm sorry about that, darling. I was just leaving back to my flat. Would you like to come with me? I could put a kettle on and pop some popcorn and put a record on if you like. I have bars of chocolate as well," she pauses and her friendly words stop for a second. "I reckon you don't want to go see him again just yet so why don't you just come have a little slumber party with ol' me? It'd be the perfect time to get to know each other better." she suggests and my tired head nods in agreement and she leads me out of the restaurant that I notice has a sign reading 'Valentino's' with spotlights on it as we walk down the wet cobblestone in the opposite direction of the boys' flat that I've been calling my home the past week. I don't know what to call it now.

I shut the door of the red car belonging to Izzy who I'm coming to like with her spunk and personality, even though what Paul said is still bugging me. I didn't mean for it to end like that.

* * *

"Tea or hot cocoa, dear?" she asks as we enter her small flat that smells of cinnamon candles and I look around when she flicks on the lights to see a kitchen right when you walk in, and a small living room connected to it along with a hall to my left.

"Cocoa, please." I respond as I slip off my flats and my sweater that I no longer need and I pull out a chair at the table to sit at, a table that is littered with empty mugs sitting on plates, envelopes of mail, things of nail polish, a book of crosswords and a few pens.

I look away from the clutter to see barefooted Izzy standing at the sink filling the red kettle with hot water. I sigh and glance to the yellow refrigerator and the magnets as well as pictures all over it, "My record player is below the telly over there. You're welcome to put on an album or a track if you like. I'm just going to go grab some pjs for us while the kettle gets hot, yeah?"

I nod my head with a fake smile and I leave the wooden chair to travel over to the carpeted living room and I go to my knees to sit by the brown record player. Unlike just about everything else in her house this isn't a bright color like her fridge, red couch, tea kettle, and pink wallpaper. I undo the latch to open the thing that is a mini version of the huge Crosley one I have back home that I'd have to lug out every time I wanted to listen to a record. I look to the shelf on the tv stand where a tall pile of records sits and I carefully pull it off to flip through them. I see a few oldies like Elvis, Little Richard, Buddy Holly and then I come across a Beach Boys album as well as the Rolling Stones and then I find a Beatles album; their first one, Please Please Me. My face falls at seeing Paul's smile and remembering the disappointed look on his face that also looked sad when he left with those words of his.

"Well here you are, love. Ah I see you must like those Beatles then, is that right?" Izzy surprises me by walking up in red pajamas that button up like a man's button-down and I look down to the record that's in good shape.

"Uh no, I don't like them actually." I lie and I place it on the pile on the floor along with the others and I look back to her confused face.

"I'll have to get you into their music then. They're good looking lads who actually live somewhere around here, and boy are their voices something." she remarks and I just smile and set the rest of the vinyls on the floor to take the blue pajamas identical to hers from her offering hands.

"The loo is the first door on your left, love."

I thank her before twisting the knob to find a bathroom with a large sink and a plain bathtub against the opposite wall with a pink polka dot shower curtain. I lock the door behind me and look in the mirror at my tired eyes that have little bags under them already as my frown takes over my face.

I step out of the bathroom to hear the familiar gravelly sound of a record and then an electric guitar and unfamiliar harmonies, "I figured you might like these Beach Boys since you're an American, you know it's not hard to recognize your accent around these places." Iz comments when I arrive back in the front room in long pajamas that are just a different color of the ones she wears.

"Yeah, I like 'em. I have a few of their records back home." I answer and I take a seat on the couch, it is the truth.

I fiddle with the bracelets on my wrist that I right now just want to rip off with my bare hands as Izzy sings along to the cheery record. I wish I could be as happy as her, "So, what happened to those guys that you were with?" I ask her and she looks to me as she adds the powdered mix into the two mugs and I see her make a face.

"They weren't any good, I discovered. I went to too much trouble trying to get them to like me when I found out in the end they just wanted to get up me skirt and have a quickie. I hate those kind of boys." she answers and I tell her I'm sorry and she says that it's okay.

"It's still mighty hot, love. Be careful." she warns while she walks up to me and she places the two slate gray mugs on the light colored wood table and I give her a thankful smile.

"And what about your boy and this fight you lot had? He doesn't sound too nice either, I'm afraid." she remarks as she combs her short hair back into a tiny ponytail.

"It's complicated."

"Isn't every relationship?" she mumbles and I nod my head after realizing that in some way and form they all are.

Neither of us say a word and I glance to the clock where the long hand is only a few ticks away from it being quarter to ten. I should call him, shouldn't I? To let him know that I'm alright. Won't he get worried? Or do I just hope that he cares that much? I wish I knew.

"Do you have a phone?" I question after I took a glance around to not find one in sight.

"You aren't thinking about calling him, are you, doll?" she asks and I give her a sheepish nod and she pats my arm affectionately.

"I do, but you shouldn't ring him. I'm not going to stop you from calling him, but sometimes space is what two people need, especially after having just gotten into a row. It's plugged in over by the stove if you want it, but sometimes it's better to just give him time." she answers as my fingers blindly play with the bracelets on my wrist and I think about what to do.

I should at least let him know that I won't be coming back, right? Then again he could be out at the bar getting drunk for all I know, or maybe asleep. Choices, choices.


End file.
